Weekends around here are good. On the weekends, we don't hear from lawyers. On the weekends, we don't get updates about what the potential birth father may or may not be doing. On the weekends, Troy is home and Garrett is a big brother and I am the mother of two. On the weekends, I don't feel quite so pressed to memorize every pore on Matthew's face and I know it's okay to let him nap somewhere other than my arms. Weekends are really good.
But Monday is coming.