On his way out the door this morning, Andrew checked on Max who started saying "Mommy" in tiny little whispers as soon as a glimmer of light hit his bedroom floor. So, like any pregnant mom, I let my nearly-two-year-old into our bed, snuggled his sleepy little arms, breathed in his terrible morning breath, and half-slept as he laid on his tummy watching Sesame Street.
And what started out as a good morning turned into a better late morning...
And now? He is asleep, taking his first nap in three whole days.
I mean, it may only be 2:45 in the afternoon, but I'm calling today a win.