Mark and I were home this weekend. For the first time in 6 weeks. We've had a busy summer - visiting the lake, going away for our anniversary, traveling to Chicago, weddings, camp... but I'm a homebody. It felt so good to be at home this weekend. I cleaned my laundry room; washed dishes; washed, dried and folded much laundry; put away veritable mountains of said clean laundry (which means you can now see our bedroom floor again); slept in; made breakfast; went to the movies; recycled 3 years' worth of laundry detergent bottles (no, I'm not joking - it may have taken us awhile, but at least we haven't been throwing them in the trash all this time...) It was so productive, relaxing and regenerating all at the same time.
It seems a little silly that a weekend of chores and mild laziness would be so refreshing. I remember when I was a kid, and I thought that it would be absolutely terrible to spend your weekend cleaning the house or pulling weeds instead of running around outside or playing games. But I do really love taking care of our home - when I'm on top of things and the place is (reasonably) clean, I feel so much more peaceful. It makes me hopeful that in 6 months when I'm at home with our baby, I'll be able to find joy and satisfaction in keeping our home.
And still find some time to run around outside and play some games.
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