on a sunday.

I like to get up early. Now, I know that 8:50 in the morning is not early by most people’s standards. (It’s actually not by my own standards, either.) But I’ve been up for a while, now. It’s nice to have some quiet time for just…nothing.

So, I was able to take in some blogs, carouse Craigslist for items that I won’t end up buying, flip through Pinterest. (I’ve been thinking about taking in this quarter’s Pinterest Challenge, but really have no idea what to do…I have been actually putting in-place some of the ideas I have found on Pinterest – like actually purchasing the light fixtures I pin, etc. – but shopping and doing are different things, correct?

Anyway. It’s nice to have some “me” time. It is always so loud with boys. And I just have one…and a husband…who has a drum kit in the basement (which is not soundproofed.)

It has been nice to take some time off. With the Fourth of July hitting mid-week, last week, it seemed like the workweek was hardly there. I took Friday off, as well, because I had put in crazy overtime a few weeks’ back, so it felt like I was rushing to cram everything in to three days. This week will be much the same – another three-day week. We’re without daycare for two days, which is okay, actually, because unless I’m without daycare, I tend to not take days off without a reason to take off time, if that makes sense.

My son is three and a half and just likes to spend time with Mom. He likes going to garage sales and to thrift stores. (Probably because I’m okay with him bringing home a toy or two when we go.) He seems to have “an eye” already – kind of like how you’ll look at a shelf of random things and then, all of a sudden, the most perfect object stands out? He has that. Granted, it’s for Cars-branded toys (or for Thomas the Train) or for baseballs or footballs, but still. He notices far quicker than I ever could.

Last night, he wanted to try on my glasses. I let him, but then he liked it too much, so I let him try on an old pair, instead. His head is nearly as big as my own, so my glasses fit him nearly perfect. He looks more like my husband than me to begin with, as he inherited way more South Asian characteristics than my West European traits, but this sealed it. (My girlfriends joke about when I will be asked if he was adopted, because I am the fairest of the fair as far as with dishwater blond hair and blue eyes and he’s a nice brown little boy with deep eyes and nearly black hair – kind of if you didn’t see my husband with us, you wouldn’t put the pieces together.) Totally looks like my husband.

Maybe the next baby (?) will look more like me. I guess we’ll have to get on that.

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