Hipster Toys, Blueberries, and the 1040.

 These blocks. Beautiful.

I bought them. Mostly for myself, as it turns out. For myself to pick up, that is. No, our boy does help with the picking-up-toys. We do it together.
I should make that part of the routine, actually. Before dinner. Because after dinner, much like a horse after the race is set on returning to the stable, I am set on bringing the kids to bed. It's been much easier on me since the [I just lifted an empty coffee cup to my lips. Can you believe it? Sad occurrence. First world problem.], where was I? In the same spot, sitting by the fireplace. Soon those days are gone! Warming up around here. Bonus: Yard season starting. Excuse me, garden season. Tomato seeds! I wanted to order those today. And blueberry bushes. Apparently you need those in pairs, after shooting the breeze with my sister-in-law, I found this out. Those tomato seeds, since they're cheaper than plants and cheating by buying plants is out of the question [and I do know I'm the one standing in my own way usually] need to get in the soil indoors sooner than. So! Back to where I was.
The husband brings the older one to bed. And himself, usually. And I can't blame him. One, attachment parenting, a beautiful thing. I'm so, so happy we're both on board with it. What a struggle it must be for parents with differing philosophies.
Two, the tired adult in the evening. I'll spare you a photo of The Tired Adult, but believe me, I can furnish that any time of the day. Trying to walk the fine line of sufficient coffee intake for satisfactory productivity and max coffee intake to nourish the suckling without influencing his sleep negatively. I. e. leaving myself with less quiet time during the day. Which would negate the whole effort towards increased productivity! A complicated formula, that whole thing. And I was never too sharp at formulas in high school. Too busy knitting or writing notes to my peeps. Consequently, I graduated with a 1.8 GPA. From high school. College, 3.9 GPA. So all was not lost!
Now, mouths to feed. Taxes to do. I have mandated this activity for myself before I paint any wall in the house. Which I am itching to do. More than I'm itching for that 1040.