Ah, Monday, you heartless thief. Stealing the joy of our weekend with your responsibilities and routine. Today has been no exception. Today is bitterly cold, but the sun is shining, so there is a small clemency. Mondays are always hard for me, but honestly Sundays are harder. You see, Sunday is my favorite day of the week. This baffles me, because it also fills me with dread for the Monday that is swiftly approaching. But Sundays hold my heart. A huge, huge part of why we moved back to Jefferson City was to see our families more and Sundays are a day FILLED with family time. We attend church with my parents, grandparents, my brother and his lovely girlfriend. We go out to breakfast together. The Littles take an early nap and this gives Matt and I time to finish up chores from the ever growing Saturday chore list, go for extra long runs, and spend a little time together before they awake. Sunday evenings we typically go to my parents house for dinner. Yesterday we went by Matt's moms house before we headed to my parents. This is exactly how I want my kids to grow up. This is how I grew up and I treasure my relationship with my grandparents. Sometimes I feel like I am weirdly close to them. I am so blessed. I don't want anyone to get the idea that we are some kind of Stepford family. That is not the case at all. We fight and we absolutely get annoyed with each other. The thing is, we talk about our issues. We don't ignore our feelings. We don't just pretend things are fine. We don't belittle each other. We stand and we deal and we move on. We all have different thoughts, feelings and opinions, but we are united. We are loyal. We are a family. Sundays remind me just how thankful I am for that fact. Sundays are bittersweet because Monday lurks in the darkness ahead, but my goodness Sundays are my Joy. We are home and it feels good.
All My Love,