As much as I try to keep my professional life separate from my personal I have yet to master the art of leaving my work at work. At not bringing my stress home with me at the end of the day. And that was never more true than this week.
When quitting time finally arrived I was desperate for a distraction…and more importantly for some perspective. A reminder about what life is really about. That the quote is true -- we really should work to live and not live to work.
Luckily for me…I found perspective in spades over the past 2 days.
Friday night sushi picnic at the park with good friends:
Where we took of our shoes and walked barefoot in the wet grass:
My oldest realized she could do some things all on her own now:
While my youngest showed she still likes to be with her mummy and daddy sometimes:
Saturday was gray and wet - typical of this June-uary weather we have had lately. So the morning was spent at home and - when the need to escape became clear - I took the girls to Costco…on a Saturday…in the rain. It could have been a complete disaster.
But it wasn’t. Yes we got soaked as we ran for the entrance…yes it was a madhouse inside…yes people abandoned their carts in the middle of the aisle in an effort to secure a free sample. But it didn’t matter…we had fun.
Youngest oversaw everything from her perch in the cart...while oldest insisted on getting all the items and (not-so) carefully putting them in the cart.
And when the shopping was done we treated ourselves to hot dogs and fries.
That night I left the family at home and headed off to see Bryan Adams. I love him…his music is like the soundtrack of high school for me. And some of his songs have significant meaning for hubby and I.
The concert was amazing…except for the fact that back began aching half way through. By the time I drove home I was in complete agony. And I was already feeling guilty knowing that the pain was unlikely to remember it was Father’s Day and that it should bugger off so I could give hubby the kind of day he deserves.
Sure enough I woke up and almost couldn’t move. Hubby had to get his own breakfast…he really didn’t get much of a break at all. I tried to suck it up. Took some advil and smiled through the pain.
The girls had been begging to walk up to the blue park (they have named all the parks in our town by colour or landmark) all week...so that's what we did.
|How long will they still automatically reach for my hand?|
Where the girls enjoyed some good old fashioned hill rolling:
So he put them both on his back and we were off:
Home for dinner…more park time…and then a trip to Dairy Queen to finish off the night.
Now…as I sit here on Sunday night…I am full of perspective. Fully aware of what truly matters. And I am ready to face whatever might come at me next week.
Ready because I know that no matter what happens in my 9-5 I have this waiting for me at the end of the day.
What else could I ever ask for?