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"I actually don't think you apologized before."

"Better late than never," she mumbles into my shoulder.

When I end up with a longer weekend that normal, it's neverreallya weekend. I always end up on the phone with anemployee, or texting an employee, or running to the store for an employee.

I wasn't having it this weekend. Fate allowed me three days without being on the schedule, and I wanted to really experience those three days without an inconvenience popping up on that phone screen. Dahlia and I stayed in most of the time anyway, only going on a brief drive to get some ice cream and coming back. We played games, read books, watched some of her favorite movies. It was perfection.

The cherry on top was propping my front door open, and sitting outside with Kara every night. We didn't do anything but talk, but it was all I needed. It was comfortable, and silly, and at times a little deep. We talked about life as only children, and what kind of vacations our families used to go on, and what snacks we used to eat so much of that we can't stand them anymore.

Her answer was popcorn, to my dismay.

I love everything about, even theexperience. It's so convenient to throw the bag in the microwave for a couple minutes, plop it into a bowl and cover in salt. Then the smell of it when you leave the room and come back? It really works for me.

Apparently it makes her nauseous now, after too many late night cravings as a teenager. It's heartbreaking.

The weekend with two of my favorite humans revived me in a way I didn't even know I needed.

I wake up feeling like myself again, refreshed, and ready for anything. I almost question if I even need to make a fun, fruity tea this morning, but decideof courseI should. I might not need the help, but it sure isn't going to hurt anything.

When I pick up my phone to turn off my alarm, it almost feels wrong. I wish I didn't need to rely on it for anything day to day so I could go even more days without it. I sigh as I press a button on the screen and plop it back down next to me.

Then I worry I hit the wrong button and lift it to my face again.

So many notifications stare back at me. More than I think I've ever had on my phone at one time.

Definitely more than I've ever had from Autumn and Miles at one time.

Oh crap.

"He's amazing. He's perfect. I love him," I coo.

Riley's little baby hand is grabbing onto my shirt so tight that I find myself impressed with his strength.

Autumn and Miles are looking down at him too, completely enraptured. I'd feel suffocated by their inability to stand more than a foot away from me if I didn't entirely understand. I'm holding their whole world in my hands, it's hard to take a step back.

"I'm really sorry again, you guys. I really should have checked my phone."

It's at least my twentieth time saying those words, but the first in person. I won't forgive myself for not knowing my new little bestie was born three days before I found out.

Three. Entire. Days.

As much as my phone can drive me nuts, I'm never going more than a couple minutes without checking it ever again.

They share a look that I can't decipher before responding.

"No, it's fine," Autumn says softly. "Things happen."

Miles nods in agreement with her, but he stays silent.

I know they want to say more. I know I disappointed them, at the very least. Hell,Iwant to say more, but I refrain for the sake of not trying to drive them absolutely mad. They'll have plenty of that coming up.

"Wook at this wittle beanie," I say, directed back at their son. "How do they even make them so small?"

We fawn over all the little pieces, Autumn even steps away for a second to grab a pack of his socks.Baby socks, those are reallysomething else. Just the sight of them makes me emotional, thinking back on the days when my girl had clothes so small I couldn't handle it.

It feels like I merely had time to blink, and now I can't handle how big they are.

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