Saturday mornings are fast becoming my favorite time of the week. The girls are finally at the age where they sleep past 7am (most of the time) and even if they do wake up, they can entertain themselves until we get up. Of course, we have to tell them the night before that there will be cranky parents in the house the next day if they get woken up by children. They’ve learned that lesson the hard way and usually stay away from our room now until they hear us talking.
I have good intentions of sleeping in and often, stay up late on Friday night watching DC Cupcakes and Say Yes to the Dress after everyone else is in bed. Most Saturdays, I’m still up by 7:30am. But there’s a difference between waking up on your own and knowing you have nothing to do and waking up to the sound of an alarm and the knowledge that this moment is going to be your calmest of the day.
Usually, around 8am or so, all four of us wind up in my bed. One girl (usually Caroline) squeals for a family sandwich and Brian and I squeeze the girls between us. Someone (again, usually Caroline) has cold feet that she insists on putting on everyone. Someone else (usually Hope) insists on laughing at the top of her lungs, doing somersaults and trying to steal my pillow. Finally, I have enough and kick everyone out—including Brian.
When we don’t have to race out of the house, Saturday mornings are great. We slowly get moving and Brian makes pancakes—which are the best in the world (seriously—his just rock. Caroline told him he should open up a pancake store and sell them). I used to try to manufacture family traditions—one of which was that we had pancakes every Saturday. I’ve loosened up on that—some mornings, we do waffles, some we do eggs and cinnamon toast and some, we just go get donuts. It's not so much WHAT we do, just that we do it together.
I know these days won’t last. And I often find myself not enjoying the moment until the moment is gone. But Saturdays are different. I pray that my girls feel the same way and look back on the crazy time squished in our bed together and smile at the memory like I do.