This and that.

Jen Jeppesen once told me that she doesn't wake her babies to go to church. "If they are sleeping, I just let them sleep," she said.

And that is where I'm at today.

My nails are painted and the church bag is packed and I am waiting on my sleepy chickadee to wake, then I will dress him to match me and daddy, and off we will go.

Jared will save us a pew.

Yesterday, we sold Vintage Farm things. Jared mowed the lawn in the snow. (Yes, I said snow.)

I lounged around changing from jeans when purchasers came to the door, then back to comfy cotton and a sweatshirt when they left. I didn't make the bed before 6:00pm last night, and only did so our babysitter wouldn't think we're the lazy kind that don't make their beds.

For most of our (sans child) married life, our bed was unmade. Now, since Morgan, since I left my job, since I am a mother, and the lady of the house, the bed gets made. I have learned that life is prettier that way.

Except on days when it snows in late May. And then I refuse.

After the lawn was mowed, and showers were taken and we were dressed, and the babysitter was picked up and nestled in for the night, it was off on the town.

We settled in at Chilies but before we ordered, we wished we would've gone to Senore's or Wingers, the trusty old favs. We played footsies and whispered about the people sitting next to us. Dinner was good. $1.00 ice cream cones were better. And we ended the night driving through Old Town where I said a million times how sweet the street-lined trees were with glowing white lights strewn through their branches. When we decided that every building we passed was older than our grandparents, we felt sentimental, determined this was exactly where we belonged, then we drove home sweet home.

And that was the story of our weekend.