today while you were napping

today while you were napping on this dark, rainy sunday, i ate lunch. salad: spinach, shredded cheddar, honey mustard dressing, and your leftover mickey mouse-shaped chicken nuggets. 

i told your dad about our rainy day adventure: how i let you dig in the mud and you kept yelling, "more dirt!" i told him about the "big kids" we met, how they let you play with their motorcycle racers, and how their older sister made me a friendship bracelet. he thought it was funny that we came home and stripped down as soon as we stepped inside. we were soooo muddy!

buddy, while you were napping, i did something totally slothful and luxurious. please don't follow my example until you are a parent and can convince yourself that you deserve a moment like this. it was sunday. it was rainy. i crawled into bed with the ipad, watched two episodes of the hills, and ate a donut. i'm already jealous of myself.

i've done what feels like ten loads of laundry and right now while you're sleeping, i'm finally finishing up the last load. it's taken all day, but every single sheet, towel, and blanket in the house is fresh and clean. the only feeling in the world better than getting into clean sheets is getting into clean sheets and eating a donut.

you kept napping, so i cooked up the noodles and pork we're having for dinner. i mixed up the peanut sauce and was reminded that i could drink this straight from the mixer. i can't wait until dinner time!

it's still raining, you're still napping, and it's so dark out that i've turned on the christmas lights. 

wake up soon, baby. i miss you.