I have grown so accustomed to weekend loving the past 4 months that when this weekend arrived, I expected nothing short of perfect. My weekend was missing something the entire time. The company of my boy and my mom. My heart ached for my mom to be in the kitchen studying when I arrived down stairs, and by 5:30 pm( maybe at 6 or 7, I never really know) I anticipated a heavy knock on the door from my boy who was excited for a good evening out, but mostly to just be together. Yet, come friday morning, I was getting cute pictures from my mom who is having the time of her life in New York, and a phone call from my boy saying he was missing me terribly, but having fun in Austin. Peoples lives always are moving, whether we are present or not. I am so glad they had a wonderful weekend, and although my weekend lacked that excitement of the normal, it definitely compensated with some time to reflect and relax, that I apparently needed more than ever.
My sister called Sunday afternoon wishing she was at home on "dad weekends". And I was quickly reminded that I missed my mom a lot, but I really love "dad weekends" because our sunday morning was spent under one dim lamp as the morning sunshine seeped through the blinds as me and my dad both read ourselves to an awaken state of mind. We then searched around for a new sunday brunch place, and wound up a popular place called Luciles, where we enjoyed New Orleans style beignets and some good old Eggs Benedict (blackstone style with bacon and grilled tomatoes). What a better weekend to end a weekend than with a pile of fried popovers covered in powdered sugar? It was truly the cherry on top to a weekend I have truly been craving.
Cheers to the weekends keeping me sane.
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