Why does it always feel like Monday comes too soon? There are times with the four of us where I wish time could stand still. We just have so much fun together.
This weekend I ran my first 5k in two years with Sam in the stroller (my time sucked: 28:40--compared to the 23:11 I can run, so I probably will not run with the stroller again). Then we went to the fair and Sam and I went down the giant slide, on the merry go round and on a little roller coaster. It was a blast.
Sunday we went to a community festival where Sam painted a pumpkin, played in the leaves and then we went to our friends house for dinner. By that time Sam was in full meltdown mode, so she initially was pretty difficult. But once she calmed down, it was the perfect end to the weekend.
Why does Monday ever have to arrive.