On the weekends my glorious husband lets me sleep in while he feeds the kids breakfast and tries his best to keep them from roaming upstairs to see if mom is awake yet. If you would have asked me years ago if I thought that sleeping past 7am would be considered “sleeping in” I would have laughed. But I cannot express the rest and energy I feel when waking up at EIGHT or EIGHT THIRTY in the morning. Pure heaven! Sunday morning I awoke to this slipped under my door. Sawyer wrote me a little love note. In case you have trouble deciphering what it says it reads, “I LOVE YOU AND YOU ARE A PICTURE”.