Fishermans hat? Check. South African soccer jersey? Check. Shark trunks? Check. Green Crocs? Double check.
Isn't there something so glorious about being awake before everyone else? And by everyone else I mostly mean Becks since B's been at work for over an hour now. There's just a certain peace about the house, and plenty of time for me to do things like unload the dishwasher or fold a load or two of laundry before I'm chasing after my rough-and-tumble 2-year-old.
Becks has been sleeping on his summer hours schedule. Which means he goes to bed a little later and sleeps until 9am. I know. It's crazy. I made the unfortunate mistake of waking him up around 8:30am the other morning and paid for it the rest of the day from a cranky, hold you mommy kinda kiddo. So now I just let him sleep until I hear him calling from his crib (which I just can't bear to change over to a toddler bed yet), and then he's the most well-rested, enjoyable child compared to his sleep-deprived alter ego. Apparently that extra half hour makes all the difference. And I'm not one to argue with a little more me-time in the morning. Even if me-time is dictated by family responsibilities (nothing like a little checkbook balancin' at 6:45am to get the blood pumpin'!).
I seem to be most productive early in the morning and late at night. As my husband would attest, it's not uncommon for me to start a project after 9pm and expect to have it finished before I go to bed. Like, um, painting a curbside treasure (a window) the most obnoxious shade of yellow and then changing my mind after it was completely covered in canary. (It's black now - I don't think I've shown you a picture of it before...) It's just the way I'm wired. However, this means that my ability to do anything productive between the hours of 9am and 9pm are severely lacking.
My sissies are on their way over for coffee and muffins, so I'm out! Happy Wednesday!