This evening when I picked Connor up from soccer practice, he hopped in the car and nonchalantly announced, "Mommy you look tired." Assuming that he thought I looked tired because I was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt I sometimes wear to bed I asked, "What about me looks tired?"
"Your face," he replied.
Just today I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror at school and what I saw was lackluster at best, death-warmed-over at worst. I tried to convince myself that it was the florescent lighting that just wasn't doing me any favors. It's nice that Connor could confirm for me that I do indeed look as tired as I feel!
(please accept this as my explanation of why I have not been posting much!)
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