This time a year ago, I was several days past my due date with several more days before the wee boy was actually born. Because everyone told me my life would never be the same once he came, I took up a habit of taking myself out to breakfast and a fancy coffee drink (decaf, of course) every day I was "overdue." The ceremony was wonderful -- an excuse to order chocolate croissants or extra cream cheese because, well, I'd eaten really healthily the entire pregnancy and I deserved a treat or six.
This morning I decided to revive that tradition, only this time, I took the wee boy with me. He's really quite good company, as long as he gets his own food. We strolled up to North End Cafe in our neighborhood and ordered a huge breakfast. The wee boy walked to the window where he watched cars drive by while he played vroom-vroom with his Hot Wheels. He also showed off the latest trick my parents taught him: he dances on command. It's pretty ridiculous.
I've been taking a much-needed break from email and voicemail and all that, limiting the Facebook time, and trying to get some things done around the house in between piano lessons. Who knew closet organization could be so therapeutic?
What's your late summer ceremony?
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