Come Clean

I do this thing-and maybe you do it too-where I have unrealistic expectation for myself that I would never demand from someone else. OK I might demand it just a liiiiitle bit from someone else.

I expect that I can recover from 5 Games in 11 months with a couple of weekends of sleeping in.
I expect that I should be able to go for a few long runs and a hot yoga class and I won't think about a boy who broke my heart anymore.
I expect that I shouldn't feel disappointed. Ever. Disappointment is for complainers.

If you think this is an exhausting way to live you are right. I don't have an answer for this yet except to note that 3.5 days of nephews was not enough. And sometimes even years later something dumb can rip open a wound you thought was closed and you cry your way through an episode of Glee. And I think maybe it's OK to admit that on both counts. It's OK if I'm still worn down after this wacko year. It's OK if maybe an old breakup still stings now and then.

In the meantime, here are some pretty great photos of a pretty perfect weekend.

Luke. His eyes will melt you. 

Best way to carry a kid. Hands down. 

Bonus grandpa visit

Kids on a pole

St. George's cutest family

I can beat Wyatt

But Morgan cheats

I didn't know Christopher was taking pictures but this one kills me.  I love this kid so much. 

Birthday bike ride with brother. So perfect. 

Was THAT Aunt and gave Wyo an entire cinnamon roll of his own. 

Training up little future climbers

Good trip. Not nearly long enough. Slept 12 hours today. Still figuring this all out.