I was chatting with a girlfriend about weekends and had to giggle at how much my weekends have changed in the last few years.
At first, I tried to resist being lame.
It took me about a year of motherhood to accept that I will no longer be going out on the town Fridays and Saturdays, but I have finally embraced it.
This is what my Friday night looked like.
I got in a great workout during the day, so I capped my night off with a power mile, a shower, a huge cup of sleepy time green tea and 'Say Yes to the Dress.'
All of this before 9pm.
Saturday was St. Patricks Day (incase you live under a rock or are without a calendar).
The boys and I packed up the car with ingredients to make Shepherd's Pie and some Oreo Truffles and headed over to my brother's house.
I tasted an 'Irish Car Bomb' that my brother-in-law swore tasted like Dr. Pepper.
Lies. All lies.
I proceeded to gag and gave it to my fiance who happily downed it.
He also woke up with a nice giant headache Sunday morning, which I suggest is a sign he can no longer 'keep up,' but he insists that's not the case.
Big Steven missed what was to be his first day of church (shame!), but Little Stevie and I proceeded.
The babe enjoyed himself and God spoke straight to my heart, so I'll call it a win.
We capped our night off with a Herman Sunday Dinner to celebrate the birth of my favorite fiance.
We ate my mama-in-law's famous baked ziti (MY FAV!!!), ice cream cake, some delicious GiGi cupcakes, and played outside.
Stevie thought it was his birthday again, which was just adorable.
Big Steven looked handsome as ever - even at the ripe old age of almost 29.
We went home, I folded laundry, and we hit the hay as early as possible.
Sure. Sometimes I miss my 'do-whatever-I-want' days.
But definitely not this weekend.