I miss Fridays...
Remember when you were a kid and you counted down every day of the week, waiting for Friday to arrive? Friday meant slumber parties and nights a the skating rink with your friends, it meant waking up late on Saturday morning, playing outside for 2 days straight (well, except for that hour or two of Saturday morning chores you had to grumble through).
Then there was high school. Friday meant football games and date nights, wandering the mall with your friends on the weekend or driving aimlessly around town looking for entertainment. College Friday nights were the best--dressing to the nines to hit the town, going to frat parties or school festivals or just chillin' on the campus lawn with a bunch of friends. Weekends meant sleeping late and heading off campus to eat, going shopping or laying on a blanket in a bikini in a park somewhere, working on your tan and flirting with boys.
I miss those days. I miss the anticipation of fun to come, the giddiness that overtakes you at about 4:00 in the afternoon, when the end of the week is near. I miss the freedom I felt driving home from work or school and knowing that for 2 days, there was practically nothing I HAD to do, just a list of fun things I wanted to do.
Now, though, Friday nights have lost their thrill. No date nights. No break in the routine. Friday night just means another night of cooking dinner, giving baths, wrestling kids into PJ's and then lounging on the couch with my hubby to watch TV--only the TV is much crappier. Saturdays we wake up early for baseball or soccer games, we spend the afternoons going to loud, hectic birthday parties at various locations featuring bad pizza and obnoxious cartoon characters, then head home to cook dinner. Again. Maybe we eat out, which frees me from cooking, but usually means trying to entertain kids during a wait for a table, Brad or I taking them for a walk outside while we wait ages for our food, then downing our dinner as quickly as possible, before the little princess melts down from exhaustion and we get kicked out of the restaurant.
I look forward to the days when the kids are a little older. Perhaps their anticipation of the weekend will be infectious, spreading to all of us in the household. I look forward to their weekend adventures leading to a stolen moment of fun and freedom from parental responsibility for Brad and I. And as crazy as it sounds, I look forward to watching them begin to spread their wings and enjoy being a kid--playing outside 'til dark on a Friday night, going on their first slumber party, even their first boy-girl group outing to the movies. Don't get me wrong: I don't want them to grow up any faster than they are already--I know this time of sweet innocence is far too short as it is. But one day, I look forward to counting down 'til the weekend fun with them--and maybe even getting to sleep in a little on Saturday, too.
Then there was high school. Friday meant football games and date nights, wandering the mall with your friends on the weekend or driving aimlessly around town looking for entertainment. College Friday nights were the best--dressing to the nines to hit the town, going to frat parties or school festivals or just chillin' on the campus lawn with a bunch of friends. Weekends meant sleeping late and heading off campus to eat, going shopping or laying on a blanket in a bikini in a park somewhere, working on your tan and flirting with boys.
I miss those days. I miss the anticipation of fun to come, the giddiness that overtakes you at about 4:00 in the afternoon, when the end of the week is near. I miss the freedom I felt driving home from work or school and knowing that for 2 days, there was practically nothing I HAD to do, just a list of fun things I wanted to do.
Now, though, Friday nights have lost their thrill. No date nights. No break in the routine. Friday night just means another night of cooking dinner, giving baths, wrestling kids into PJ's and then lounging on the couch with my hubby to watch TV--only the TV is much crappier. Saturdays we wake up early for baseball or soccer games, we spend the afternoons going to loud, hectic birthday parties at various locations featuring bad pizza and obnoxious cartoon characters, then head home to cook dinner. Again. Maybe we eat out, which frees me from cooking, but usually means trying to entertain kids during a wait for a table, Brad or I taking them for a walk outside while we wait ages for our food, then downing our dinner as quickly as possible, before the little princess melts down from exhaustion and we get kicked out of the restaurant.
I look forward to the days when the kids are a little older. Perhaps their anticipation of the weekend will be infectious, spreading to all of us in the household. I look forward to their weekend adventures leading to a stolen moment of fun and freedom from parental responsibility for Brad and I. And as crazy as it sounds, I look forward to watching them begin to spread their wings and enjoy being a kid--playing outside 'til dark on a Friday night, going on their first slumber party, even their first boy-girl group outing to the movies. Don't get me wrong: I don't want them to grow up any faster than they are already--I know this time of sweet innocence is far too short as it is. But one day, I look forward to counting down 'til the weekend fun with them--and maybe even getting to sleep in a little on Saturday, too.
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