Saturdays

Saturdays take on a whole new meaning when you are a working mom.
I never thought I would be a working mom. I always pictured myself as a bit of a "Stepford wife" with the perfectly clean home, dinner on the table by 6, laundry done, children clean, and a smile.
WRONG.
This is SO not my life.
My day starts at 5 am when I hear the sweet sound of Sugar screaming through the monitor informing me that the time to eat is NOW. I get to love on my baby boy for the 30 minutes it takes to feed, change, and rock back to sleep. I then get ready for work, make my coffee (I would like to talk to someone who can arrange an IV drip of this for me), and head out the door to work. Mr. takes Sugar to my parents, my sisters, or waits on my mom to come to our house for the day.
I spend my day with OTHER peoples babies. I help them tie their shoes, wipe their tears, remind them to cover their mouths when they cough and blow their noses, tell them when they have leftover syrup from breakfast on their cheeks, point to words as they read them, and celebrate with them as they solve "hard" addition problems. During this time, I am also juggling parent notes, paper work, answering emails, creating lesson plans, checking work, answering questions, and trying not to feel guilty or sad for not spending my day with MY baby.
I try to leave work by 2:45. It takes me 30 minutes to 50 minutes to get to Sugar depending on whose house he is at. Walking in and seeing that dimpled smile is PRICELESS. Nothing compares to it.
We go home, I wash bottles, make new ones, unpack and repack his bag, make dinner, feed him every two hours until bed time and at around 9:30, I sit down for the first time. At 10:00, I get in bed and prepare to do it all again tomorrow...
This working mommy thing is no joke.
When Saturday mornings come around, they are no longer looked forward to because I get to sleep all day. They are looked forward to because of this...

Now, don't tell my pediatrician, but I LOVE snuggling in bed with my baby boy. Saturdays are my day for this. When he gets up at the crack of dawn I run into his room like a little kid at Christmas, scoop him up, and snuggle him into the bed with the Mr. and I. It is my heaven. We snuggle until the morning passes. It is my most precious time. 

Big bed. Little baby. Can you find him??

Saturdays are such a gift to this working mama.