The Weekends That Fill Your Cup

We baked. A lot.

Somehow, the cinnamon buns I had planned turned into donuts instead, and honestly, I think that's exactly what I needed.

We spent the weekend in the kitchen, baking and making things just because we could. We put on our TV show, stayed home, and eventually moved the air mattress into the living room and started Breaking Bad because apparently, after all these years, I've somehow never seen it and apparently, according to my husband, this show is tooo good.

There's something so unspoken about a genuinely relaxing weekend. Nothing particularly exciting happens, but somehow Monday morning feels completely different.

You wake up and realize your cup is a little more full than it was on Friday.

We recently bought two air conditioners, which feels like a pretty significant event considering we've been living without air conditioning for quite this entire summer.

The sea is quite literally at the end of our street, so normally we get the most beautiful breeze through the front doors of our house. But August in Italy is different. The heat settles in, and when it gets up to 46°C, there isn't much breeze in the world that can make your house feel cool.

So now, being able to come home, turn on the A/C, and actually feel comfortable in our own house feels like such a luxury.

We blew up the air mattress.

We made food.

We baked.

We watched TV.

We stayed home.

And somehow, those were the things that made me feel most like myself. I've been thinking a lot about hobbies lately and how much I want to get lost in them again.

Not because I need to be productive.

Not because I need something to show for my time.

Just because I genuinely love creating things.

I want to bake my heart away when fall comes. I want to try recipes I've never made before. I want to find other creative ways. I want to read more. I want to get excited about little things again.

Because I'm realizing that these things aren't insignificant. They matter. Especially for me.

There have been moments lately where I can feel that familiar restlessness creeping in. That feeling that I need to do something. Go somewhere. Make something happen. Find some excitement.

And I've been learning that I don't always need to follow that feeling.

Sometimes I just need to make donuts. Sometimes I need to put my phone down. Sometimes I need to stay home with someone I love, watch a show, and let the weekend be completely ordinary.

I feel really good today. And these are the mornings I need to remember.

Because when Thursday night or Friday afternoon comes around and I feel that familiar urge to do something reckless, something impulsive, something just to feel something, I want to remember this feeling.

I want to remember what it feels like to wake up on Monday and feel proud of how I spent my weekend.

Not hungover.

Not trying to piece together the night before.

Not wondering what I said or did.

Just... happy.

Rested.

Content.

Ready for the week.

There's something really beautiful about realizing that peace can actually be exciting.

Sunday also happened to be, what would of been, my best friend's 30th birthday.

Yesterday, I looked at my phone to check the date and suddenly said, "Oh my God. It's her birthday today."

And I don't know how else to explain it, but it felt like one of those little moments that makes you pause. I thought about her. I thought about everything.

And it felt like a little reminder that some people continue to exist in our lives in ways we can't always explain. And then there's another little piece of this weekend that feels especially meaningful. Two years ago, on August 9th, we signed our marriage certificate.

This Wednesday will be our second wedding anniversary.

And I don't think I can talk about our second year of marriage without acknowledging how much we've had to walk through to get here. Our first year was incredibly hard in ways I don't think either of us could have anticipated. There were things we had to face individually and together. Things that challenged us, things that hurt, and things that forced us to look at ourselves and our relationship differently.

So this anniversary feels different. It feels special.

Not because everything has suddenly become perfect, but because we're here. We're still here.

And I think there's something incredibly beautiful about being able to look back at a difficult season and realize that you didn't stay there.

You've changed.

You've grown.

You've learned.

You've chosen differently.

We're hoping to celebrate our anniversary quietly this year. Nothing extravagant. Just something small that feels like us.

And maybe that's exactly what I want more of right now.

The small things.

The weekends at home.

The donuts.

The air conditioning.

The shows I've never seen.

The hobbies I'm rediscovering.

The life that doesn't always look exciting from the outside but feels really good from the inside.

I think I've spent a lot of time believing that feeling alive meant constantly doing something.

Now I'm starting to understand that maybe feeling alive can also look like sitting on an air mattress in your living room, watching a show for hours, knowing there's nowhere else you need to be.

Maybe it looks like waking up on Monday with your cup filled.

Maybe it looks like choosing the life that doesn't need escaping from.

And maybe, for me, that's what I'm becoming more interested in.

Not chasing the next high.

Not chasing the next plan.

Just building a life that I actually want to stay present for.