I love weekend mornings…

10 years ago weekend mornings didn’t exist. They were spent asleep in bed with a hangover following the party the night before. Saturdays didn’t start until midday and Sundays often didn’t start until 6…pm.

8 years ago every morning became a weekend morning. Newly married on a two month long honeymoon, time was never ending, plans were fluid and alarm clocks were banned. Every morning brought promise of something great to explore and experience. Mornings (well most of them) were back in existence and filled with excitement for the day ahead (hangover or not). The time was so great but too short so a year later we made them happen again by travelling the world for nine months. Second time around, you realise how quickly time speeds by; nine months isn’t a long time to see a huge chunk of the world. Most days blend into each other — there is no distinction between a week day and the weekend and alarm clocks are necessary to make sure you fill every possible second with exploration.

5 years ago, weekend mornings disappeared again. Our first house was a mess. We worked flat out at our paying jobs during the week and worked flat out transforming our wreck into a home at the weekends. If we hadn’t achieved a significant amount by 10am we felt deflated. Everything needed doing to that house and we did the vast majority ourselves and with the help of our friends and family. At the time I resented not having a weekend. Now, when I remember what a beautiful house it was when we had finished, I feel proud. And when I look at the house it helped us buy I feel so grateful for the existence of that wreck of a house.

2 years ago, newly pregnant, weekend mornings became mine again. Growing a baby is a good excuse to stay in bed (or at least to go back to bed once the morning sickness had subsided). 9 months later I would wonder if I would ever get time to spend the weekend (or any time for that matter) in bed again, let alone even know what day of the week it was.

I write this today on a Saturday morning. It’s just after 7 am. That’s a lie in these days and I couldn’t be happier about it. My husband is drifting in and out of sleep and I can hear my son chatting away happily to his teddy as he also drifts in and out. It is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

I love weekend mornings.

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