we are lovers of Saturday in this house…all of us, even the dog. Yes, you read that right…Hemmingway knows when it’s Saturday and therefore so do the neighbors because he barks his delight for up to 30 minutes at a time. Saturday brings a routine in this house that is…perfect. I love Saturday so much I don’t even know how to describe it.
Our routine started months and months ago…I don’t even think I was pregnant. Hemmingway would wake up around 6:30 and drive Brad CRAZY….his solution was to go to Dunkin Donuts for coffee. When he wasn’t extremely upset with Hemmingway I could, in my sleeping stupor, convince him to take the dog. Oh how excited Hemmingway would get! Running back and forth in the room, barking, following Brad’s every move…then he’d run to the door and sit on the edge of the carpet, right where it meets the tile, and wait for his leash to be put on. Brad’s lucky his arm wasn’t ripped out of socket when the door opened as Hemmingway raced to the car…..he was going for a ride with his Daddy! Brad would come back with coffee and a muffin and we would stay in bed for as long as possible….Hemmingway cuddled up between us (because that’s where Great Danes belong). Sometimes Jasmine and Mr. Darcy would join us and we would just laugh at our chaotic life.
Then we got pregnant. Our routine continued…but those slow morning of snuggling in bed with all the animals would now be filled with the longing for our child to be right in between us. Oh how perfect Saturday mornings would be then!
For Christmas I bought Brad a griddle (romantic, I know) and Saturday mornings shifted. Hemmingway still got his early morning ride with Daddy and I still got to sleep in. But now, when Brad came home only Hemmingway joined me in bed. I would stumble downstairs sometime around 9 and to my utter delight find Brad in the kitchen, the griddle filled with pancakes (brad insists that they are called “flapjacks” in this house), a half empty mug of coffee on the counter (it’s his third cup), and 90’s on 9 on the TV. Brad plays trivia with himself: name the band, song and year in the first 5 seconds of the song. It’s A-M-AZING! He’s absolutely brilliant. We’d sit at the table (I’ve now forgotten what it’s like to have one), the dogs beside us and the music on in the background. My absolute favorite part is how happy my husband is throughout his routine. It might be linked to those 3 cups of coffee…but he’s hyper…I LOVE it.
As my pregnancy progressed and morning were not so “peaceful” for my stomach our ritual became mixed with more mornings of laying in bed or on the couch.
One Saturday I came downstairs with Hemmingway, kissed Brad and took my place leaning against a counter and Brad told me that he’d had a vision while he was cooking flapjacks. He said he was pouring the batter and he could see Zoe playing in the living room while he cooked in the kitchen. He was so excited. He was going to be a dad. Soon.
Today it wasn’t Hemmingway who woke us up, it was Zoe. Brad rolled over and grabbed a few more minutes of sleep as I fed her in bed. The dogs were let out, the cats fed, and Hemmingway still came to join us in bed. I’m convinced he knows it’s Saturday because of our routine. As we got dressed to go to the store Hemi raced between us barking the whole time because he just knew he was going on a ride. We had to disappoint him. Rather than Dunkin Donuts we were going to Publix…we were low on the ingredients for French Toast. We held hands, strolled the aisles and made a fuss over our daughter. And we laughed. We laugh all the time…but we always laugh on Saturday. We take our time. At home Hemmingway is even more excited. The griddle comes out of its hiding place, the coffee pot gets turned on and rock music fills our house. It’s hair bands this morning. Brad’s winning – again. Hemmingway is running in circles in the backyard. Breakfast is eaten on the couch because our dining room table is covered with baby stuff. Zoe is up and ready for her second breakfast. And Brad just yelled “help” from the diaper changing station….
It’s a fantastic morning at the Harvin residence
It’s Saturday morning.