Not to be confused with The Saturdays, the British girl group. I love the day of the week.
I love Saturdays, not just because it is the start of the weekend. Not just because I don’t have to deal with the school run. Not just because Husband is home to help. Not just because I don’t have to rush around doing errands, going to playgroups or cleaning the house.
I love Saturdays because very Saturday morning I take my five year old, Moozles, and her friend Lily to gymnastics. Yes, it’s a bit of a pain to have to leave the house at 8.25am. But once gymnastics begins at 9am, I have a whole hour to myself. And hour away from home, where I can drink tea and indulge in a croissant or some cake. I can catch up on twitter and emails and even work on my blog. And I don’t have to feel guilty about doing dishes or tidying, because I cannot.
My son stays at home with Husband, so there is no one to demand that I sing songs or who requires 50 rounds of ‘this little piggy’. I can go to the loo when I want, and on my own. When I use the loo here, there is no one placing their book on my lap so that I cannot move once I have finished weeing.
For a SAHM who doesn’t get much grown-up/alone time, Saturday mornings keep me sane. Gotta go, I need another cup of tea.