I started out writing this post describing some of what I did this weekend.  And then I stopped.  Because I don’t think the focus should be on what list of things I accomplished (there are always something – I have check lists of stuff that has to be done on the weekends to prep for my work week).  But the real important part of this post has nothing to do with exactly what we did this weekend. 

Friday I was worn out.  The week had contained time off work for appointments for Sawyer (one of which was missed because of scheduling problems and another of which involved shots); a Board Meeting I was in charge of setting up and responsible for it coming off without a hitch (any hitches, my fault or not, would be blamed squarely on me); Greta chauffeuring me back and forth to work; Ezra being 4 and working that defiant streak (one morning pitching a bloody fit bad enough that, when Greta dropped me off, I could hear him screaming my name as she turned off onto Peachtree Street – lovely); Jay having a mad, full week of work; and, certainly not least, a long catch-up chat with April, which was sorely needed. 

By the end of the week, even though not all of my week had been negative, I was drained.  I had been running like mad from one “must-do” to the next, accomplishing everything but barely finding time to catch my breath.  I was managing to stay on top of all my mom and employee duties, but I was frazzeling. 

But when I got home on Friday evening it was instantly better.

I did not go on a vacation this weekend.  I did not go out of town or do anything special.  I did not go out on a “date night” or even out to dinner. 

I did not have fabulous plans like some people I know who are childless and without a steady relationship so they fill their time with girlfriends, shopping and drinks. 

I still had to clean house, do laundry, menu plan and grocery shop, all of which I managed to fit in. 

But from Friday evening when I got home from work to the last sip of wine Saturday night after Jay and I cooked ourselves a fabulous dinner, there was no stress, no difficulties and no aggravations.  Sure, things happened.  But by then I had been in my Laughing Place for a while and was impervious to drama and aggravation. 

You know what made it so powerful?  Why, even as I sit here now on a Monday afternoon when I should be a bit frayed around the edges, I am still bathed in relaxation and calm assurance?

I did crawl into my bed and pull the covers over my head.  I did spend almost a solid 24 hours in that bed.

But I was not alone.  Jay was with me. 

He understood my need to hibernate, even if only for a day.  And he knew exactly what I needed and gave that to me without hesitation, whether it was a few hours of tv, sleep, talking, silence, wine or anything else comforting and relaxing.   I had a place, withdrawn from the world where there was only the two of us – without expectations, without judgment – only understanding and acceptance sprinkled with contentment and laughter. It was divine.

I hope to carry that feeling with me all week.

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