As I used to (seriously, like 3 months ago) only like frou-frou lattes and mochas, I'm really not sure who I am right now.
Most mornings I have to reheat my cup three times and of course I can't sit down to drink it because as soon as I sit someone wants on my lap. But still, I feel as though I'm enjoying a leisurely morning in a coffee shop even though I am definitely not, and that is why mornings (with the coffee) are beautiful. (Lately they've been made even more beautiful thanks to these homemade fig newton bars, which I conveniently made gluten free.)
My morning coffee has become a time of restoration for me. I pick a mug I love, and even though I can't sit and enjoy it uninterrupted, I try to choose a time in the morning when the kids are playing and I can pretend like it's quiet time for me. It's not the actual beverage that makes it so special, it's the experience of having something nice for myself each day.
"...He restores my soul..." Sometimes through something as simple as a warm mug of coffee.
Apparently it is important to us to instill the same love for the beverage to our children. David let Christian try a sip (or 7) yesterday and he loved it. I didn't think you were supposed to like coffee when you're 16 months old?
This was his face after having a few sips:
And then coming to beg for more. Remember that this was DAVID giving him coffee. DAVID (not me, as I would never do such a thing):
Today David had training and so worked a day shift and day shifts are the most wonderful thing. Our morning was busy taking GAL to the airport, and then making bread and applesauce and baking gluten/dairy free snacks for the kids, and then before I knew it it was lunch time, nap time, and then David was home.
The coffee was extra good today.