Sunday. Snowday. Whatever.

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifGCY9K3HERVLQx16FtqM2DSkPUCgO0k-UTdJ-CQ8wX9BnEvQI0bWGZ2rKZoNhObIvstLThHrEAH5EMtpiHF3tBafSuo1wpjdhr1Ajl-mUjUsJnLqHX4kgulBUImNlJZcu313pkkR7crP/s1600/S3britt1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="340" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifGCY9K3HERVLQx16FtqM2DSkPUCgO0k-UTdJ-CQ8wX9BnEvQI0bWGZ2rKZoNhObIvstLThHrEAH5EMtpiHF3tBafSuo1wpjdhr1Ajl-mUjUsJnLqHX4kgulBUImNlJZcu313pkkR7crP/s400/S3britt1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">boots & belt: kohl's. skirt: thrifted. sweater: american eagle. coverage tee & necklace: downeast basics. bracelets: don't recall.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfKcS88PnyMTZT1WvaqxRlGcmFSGeurDpXTA_ewOF4bnPd4WAgmnxGwkms6g8AISOMMSVihyADarUiLH0apMW4WX-unVxHAIDyKoQNSJHl9V6nph0_83pYbAPYndTTrqMzGsS8WJuIHoR/s1600/S3britt2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfKcS88PnyMTZT1WvaqxRlGcmFSGeurDpXTA_ewOF4bnPd4WAgmnxGwkms6g8AISOMMSVihyADarUiLH0apMW4WX-unVxHAIDyKoQNSJHl9V6nph0_83pYbAPYndTTrqMzGsS8WJuIHoR/s400/S3britt2.jpg" width="340" /></a></div><div align="center">This week, I'm grateful for:</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">- having enough random food in the house to throw together a decent meal or two without having to go grocery shopping. (Have I told you how much I don't love grocery shopping? Yes? Well, fine.)</div><div align="center">- snowtime with kids. Including showing my 6-year-old what being "whitewashed" means...</div><div align="center">- and his being a good learner. I'm still getting snow bits out of my left ear and nostril.</div><div align="center">- family time in general. </div><div align="center">- kissable 2-year-old cheeks. I wish I could freeze time. Or at least her kissy cheeks. But that would be gross and, therefore, counterproductive in the kissability. So.</div><div align="center">- unexpected mail.</div><div align="center">- a 4-year-old determined to earn herself a certain zhu-zhu pet and, thus, becoming my personal slave. (Note to self: Write Mr. Zhu-Zhu a letter of gratitude for selling such kid-covetable merch...)</div><div align="center">- spring break. Sleeping in. Staying up late. Doing nothing productive but many things worthwhile.</div><div align="center">- starburst jelly beans.</div><div align="center">- easter egg hunts as pasttime in the living room.</div><div align="center">- a husband who knows of all my faults and lameties but who pretends to know of none.</div><div align="center">- parents coming back home from Sweden in fewer than 3 months.</div><div align="center">- pencil sharpeners.</div><div align="center">- kid shampoo+conditioner in one.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Happy Sunday, my friends.</div>

Sunday. Snowday. Whatever.

boots & belt: kohl's. skirt: thrifted. sweater: american eagle. coverage tee & necklace: downeast basics. bracelets: don't r...

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