There are two kinds of weekends I’ve had with my daughter: weekends I look forward to, and weekends I do not. Our two solo days together are either a beautiful – dare I say perfect – mix of activities that feel energizing and fun. Or, they are a brutally slow and miserable slog through alternating torrents of boredom, exhaustion and stress. Sound familiar?

In my early mom days, I absolutely stressed o-u-t about WTF to do with this kid on the weekend. What if we went to a restaurant and she started screaming her brains out? Where would I change her diaper if she pooped while we were at the bookstore? How could I move her seamlessly from stroller to crib if she fell asleep before we got home?

What I was really struggling with was: How could I do things I loved pre-baby but now with her in tow? What was the best approach to weekend planning to satisfy my needs without overtaxing her?

At first, I thought it meant socializing as much as possible. A birthday party, friend hang and grocery shopping all in the three hours between naps? No problem! Criss-crossing town to hit the playground and library before brunch? Of course! Who needs the gym when you’re pushing a 40lb stroller on the bumpy AF sidewalks of Brooklyn for six hours a day? Not me! But every Sunday night, I was depleted. While a part of me knew that this self-imposed schedule was too ambitious and physically taxing, another, much louder part of me, pushed on.

Going into the world to find activities that engaged both my daughter and I felt good. I loved watching her experience things for the first time: first carousel ride, first run through the park sprinklers, first bite of a real New York City bagel, first swing. Each moment was a total love-rush. I was living out my long-held dream of being a city mom. Of course I was going to lean all the way in, literally, and push that stroller as far and as hard as I could.

But I was burning us both out. My daughter started refusing to go outside and I would spiral if I felt like my carefully orchestrated plans were about to fall apart. We were crabby and tears were not uncommon. What had been fun and exciting started to feel rigid and stressful. There had to be a better way.

I wanted – and still want – my weekends to be full of opportunities for connection with my daughter and with friends, opportunities for exploration, and opportunities for ease. I want to be intentional with my time and my plans and be honest about what I have the capacity for at the end of the week. And I absolutely want to have fun. So that is how my recipe for a (mostly) perfect weekend with a 2.5 year old, who takes one nap a day, at home, was born. (Almost) Every weekend we plan:

• 1x Big Activity: Something special, ideally outside of our neighborhood.
• 1x Meal Out: A great restaurant that we can both enjoy.
• 1x Play Date/Birthday Party/Class: Interaction with other kids and adults.
• 1x Unstructured Play Time: Silly, easy, no pressure bonding time at home.

This basic mix of activities has lead to the most fulfilling weekends we’ve shared. In it, we both have room to be ourselves, our plans are deliberate, meet our needs and we’re not over-scheduled. It’s simple but as I’ve learned, that’s the point.

Some weekends you’ll have six birthday parties, family in town, and need to get a haircut. And other weekends, you’ll curse the torrent of relentless thunderstorms that keep you stuck inside. But on those perfectly fine, perfectly empty weekends, having a simple strategy like this will be the only thing you need.

Soon I’ll share our favorite adventures and some great resources for local, kid-friendly activities to help inspire your own weekend adventures.

But for now, there it is friends, my recipe for a mostly perfect weekend. What’s yours?