Sunday Swell

1.06.2013

It's Sunday night and I've got a case of the "I'm-so-content-I could-want-for-nothing"s.  Some Sunday nights are filled with sadness about the end of the weekend and the accompanying dread about Monday being right around the bend.  But tonight, I'm feeling so grateful for one of those perfect, well-rounded weekends.  


By the time I walked in the door on Friday night, I was moving like molasses.  I was surrender tired, you know?  I couldn't speak without yawning, and every effort felt like I was climbing Everest.  I think all of those extra miles I had snuck into my daily routine had caught up with me.  So I spent the night cozied up in the reading nook in our bedroom, totally engrossed in my current book, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail, by Cheryl Strayed.  There was nowhere else I would've rather been.  Friday = Ahhhday.   

On Saturday, we finally met our new nephew, Christian.  Nothing heals a broken heart (via miscarriage) like holding, smelling, and loving on a newborn baby.  In time, of course.  We gave ourselves a three week baby-free buffer after our loss and his birth (he was born less than 24 hours after our miscarriage began), as we just couldn't go there with our wounds so fresh and deep.  But Saturday, we went there it proved to be just what our hearts needed.  Babies, man.  Those tiny fingers, that soft delicious skin, all those sugar-coated coos; it's all just so perfect and so soothing.  

After a gratifying dose of baby, we took advantage of the fact that we're currently baby-less and turned our attention to booze.  We headed over to our friends' house for their annual cake and champagne party, where we reconnected with great friends and, well, drank a lot of champagne.  Bubbly and good people for the WIN!  Like any good party, there were some memorable stories told, including a tale of becoming a celebrity on New Years Eve under the Eiffel Tower, and the time our friend made front page news by crashing her car into a Dominos Pizza in small-town Missouri.  We came home to the best post-party/pre-crash food ever: leftover chinese food.  Chowed hard, then crashed hard.  

Sunday, or sleep-in-Sunday, as I like to call it, began blissfully and leisurely at 10:00am.  With coffee!  I no longer drink coffee on a regular basis, so when I do have coffee, it's like a special treat.  Even though I had a lot to do today, the slow start set the tone for a chill yet productive day, just how I like it.  I set out around 1:30pm, and returned hours later with a new pair of slippers (my winter life can begin now), two books, and 10 bags of groceries.  If that weren't good enough, I came home to find that my man had 1) done my laundry(!), 2) cleaned the house, and 3) removed all traces of Christmas from our home.  Seriously.  He's that good.  

So here I sit, writing in my new slippers, dinner on the stove, new books on the shelf, new week on the horizon.  My heart is swelled with gratitude for a healing, restful, and joyful weekend.  It's a classic Sunday swell, and I'm gonna ride it straight into Monday and beyond.  

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