I was trying to sleep in this morning because my lovely son decided that he wasn't interested in being asleep from 3 to 4 a.m. I contemplated just leaving him in crib to figure it out on his own, but like the sucker that I am, I sat in his room with him while he giggled at his mobile. He eventually dozed off at about 4:15, only to wake up crying about 10 minutes later. Maybe he had a nightmare (can three and a half month old babies have nightmares?), or maybe he was staging a protest of some sort.
Either way, I wasn't feeling like staying up any longer so he spent the next 3 hours sleeping on top of me in my bed - a sleeping arrangement that was part of our daily lives until four or five weeks ago.
What's my point? I'm not even sure - I'm tired and I lost my train of thought. The sleeping in didn't happen.

The other day I was elated to discover that the front door to Tango Palace was in fact wide enough to fit my stroller. For months I was convinced that it wasn't, so decided there was no point in trying. Last Tuesday I noticed a woman enter the coffee shop with her stroller, and was filled with excitement. During our trip to TP, I enjoyed a leisurely cup of coffee and a toasted bagel with peanut butter. B alternated between chilling in his stroller and sitting on my lap, watching a trio of gentlemen seated at the table next to ours.

I enjoyed the time chatting with my son, writing a bit in my journal, and sipping my coffee. I might make it a weekly habit.