How I love my sleeping boys. Not just for how peaceful and relaxed and totally adorable they look. But for what their sweet slumbering represents. Downtime. When they're awake, they never stop and it would seem, nor do I. This weekend I was lucky enough to have not one, but two nights out with the gals and it was awesome. Dinner with my mother's group lovelies on Friday night and a birthday dinner celebration for another wonderful friend on Saturday night. So much chatter, a drop or two of bubbly and some time to spread my wings a bit.
However, as I always say, these nights out are a catch 22. The preparation they entail is extensive. I like to have the boys fed and bathed and settled before I leave. It's just the way I work. And when Felix completely flipped out on the Friday evening just as I was leaving, I made sure he was well and truly snoozing by the time I walked out the door on Saturday night. It breaks my heart to leave him crying, even though I know he is in great hands with his Dada.
So by Sunday afternoon, this was the scene at our place. No Scott, as he was out on the golf course. An exhausted Angus sprawled on the lounge. An overtired Felix asleep in his high chair. And a slightly rundown Mama taking the opportunity to steal a cheeky nap while she could (and I did move Felix from his chair to snooze with me on the bed, for the record).