Over two years ago while visiting the US, my sister and I bought ourselves some pretty rad, extremely goofy sunglasses. Mine were red with bizarre stars on them; hers were orange with something I can't remember on them. I liked the looks of amusement, what-is-she-wearing (nod to Style Queen here), and sometimes stuffy disgust when I wore mine out and about, especially recently while baby wearing PJ. When Little One was here, we got to rock our shades together all throughout Heidelberg.
But yesterday an era ended: my crazy red-with-stars sunglasses broke in the diaper bag.
And lately that is how I have been feeling: an end of an era. I jokingly tell people that life with PJ got easier when I forgot what it was like before and then I laugh. But really, honestly, its the truth. I cannot really recall what life was like before PJ arrived anymore.
Did I sleep late? Did I shower longer? Did I eat slower? Did food taste better warm? What was it like to drink two glasses of wine? Did I walk more? What was regular yoga like? What did I talk about? What did I read?
Yeah, I don't know. An end of an era. And something about that actually feels right.
How 'bout them apples?
xo
But yesterday an era ended: my crazy red-with-stars sunglasses broke in the diaper bag.
And lately that is how I have been feeling: an end of an era. I jokingly tell people that life with PJ got easier when I forgot what it was like before and then I laugh. But really, honestly, its the truth. I cannot really recall what life was like before PJ arrived anymore.
Did I sleep late? Did I shower longer? Did I eat slower? Did food taste better warm? What was it like to drink two glasses of wine? Did I walk more? What was regular yoga like? What did I talk about? What did I read?
Yeah, I don't know. An end of an era. And something about that actually feels right.
How 'bout them apples?
xo
