“But because we don’t know, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.”

– Paul Bowles


That’s how many weekends we have left with Liv at home.

Our new custody arrangement (it’s not so new anymore) has us with the kids every other weekend, and every weeknight except Thursday.  That means we have 107 weekends left, give or take a weekend or two, of Liv in our house.

Sometimes when you parent, you look at the day to day and think “If we can just get past the teeball game/talent show/concert/recital next Thursday, life will slow down for a second.”  I’ll be the first to stand up and say there are days, Saturdays and Sundays sometimes, where I want a minute to veg out and watch the Rays play, or a rerun of 3:10 to Yuma.  But it’s not time for that.  Because I have 107 Saturdays left.  And I have 107 Sundays left.

107 more chances to go fishing together.  To go to church together.  To go camping together.

107 more potential Family Moooooovie Nights.  Mario Kart Tournaments.  Chess matches.

107 more opportunities for quality weekend time.  Me and her.  Her and her Gilly.  All 4 of us.

That 107 is spread over 4 years (26 weekends a year, beginning at the end of May).  She’s going to end up with school reports and band activities and friend stuff, and before you know it that 107 is going to look more like 75-80.  She’ll have to get her hair done 5-6 times a year – there goes another 24 Saturday mornings.

Duck season is 3 months long – that means I get half of those weekends – that means 24 more chances to duck hunt together.  Football season is 17 weeks long – I get half of those weeks – that means 34 more Sundays of Fantasy Football.

And if I sound sad, or melancholy, I’m not.  See, I learned a lesson after the divorce, and after having to travel so much with work, and after realizing that life is way more fragile than we take for granted.  Because 107 Saturdays aren’t guaranteed, even if it seems like they should be.

Make the most of the time you have with your kids.  Cherish it.  Build memories and moments that they’ll have forever.

Will loves very few things in this world more than playing Minecraft.  He’s been known to hole up in his room for hours at a time, his whole world existing in the iPad.  About 6 months ago, we put the kibosh on Minecraft at our house.  Let’s play a video game together.  Let’s go for a bike ride.  Let’s hang out and talk.  Let’s take the dogs to the park.  Let’s go visit a neighbor.

Will turned 8 a couple of weeks ago.

26 weekends a year.

260 Saturdays left.

Seems like a lot.

It isn’t.

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