On our way home from all the exciting Mother’s Day activities (Lake George in Hobart & then Dari Dip in Portage) we noticed Noah had a bit of the sads. When we asked him about it he got full on weepy. I whispered to Jeff, it might be the Sunday Night Blues. You know?

That child is so much like me at ten years old. I remember that feeling in the pit of my stomach when Sunday night would roll around. For me it usually meant I had to stop reading the book I’d been devouring all weekend, or get back into the routine of life vs. my preferred pretend-world.

I tried to get his mind off of it when he confirmed between sniffles that he just didn’t want to go to school tomorrow. We were stopped by a train, so we guessed what time the last train car would pass in front of us. We both guessed 8:45 and seriously as soon as the clock turned 8:45 the last train car passed. That cheered him up for a minute. Then we were home and it was time to get ready for bed. Just another reminder.

I remember so well. And I don’t remember what made me feel better about it other than just facing the next day and working it out.

How do you fight the Sunday Night Blues?

Stephanie is Mom to three boys & a girl in Valparaiso, IN and blogs daily at Adventures In Babywearing . Follow her on Twitter- she’s babysteph .