Started a pleasant Sunday tradition of taking the big boys out to breakfast, just the three of us. As an added bonus, we brought home pie and cake for an Oscar night treat.
Bunk Bed Mission: SUCCESS.
I will post pics when the bed is delivered and assembled at the end of the week. I have a billion dollars worth of Star Wars bedding in my PBK cart, but do I really want to spend that much just to have Harry and Jack snot all over it? Probably not.
Tonight, we grilled steaks and sauteed mushrooms and iced some shrimp for cocktails and steamed green beans and baked potatoes and tossed a big salad. I say we, but Ben did all of those things while I cleaned the bathrooms. When I finished and tossed my cleaning rags in the wash, I left the big boys sort of getting along in the basement with a mess of Star Wars guys and joined Ben and Coop in the kitchen.
Ben was plating dinner and cutting up the kids' steak, and Cooper was hanging out in his Rock n Play sans sweatpants, his fat little legs hanging over the front of his chair. I put him in his highchair, mixed up some oatmeal, and scooped out a serving of pureed pears.
I heard a pop and turned to see Ben opening champagne and pouring it into our wedding toasting flutes. Before we called Harry and Jack to dinner, we toasted Cooper, our fat, wonderful little baby, who smiled a leaky oatmeal smile.
We leaned against each other in a swath of sunset cutting across the kitchen and listened to Harry and Jack thunder up the stairs while the baby laughed.