Morning burrowed beneath a bundle of blankets and comforters. Head covered, trying to escape the sunbeams pouring through the window. Ten minutes later and I gave up. Shivering, a hoodie pulled over my messy hair. Shortly after all the blinds were open downstairs, the lights on the Christmas tree sparkled in the front window, and my Dean Martin Christmas album was spinning on the record player. Eggs and leftover ham prepared as I danced across the floor. The first day of Christmastime.

A few hours later and I'm on the couch, browsing online for Black Friday deals. Nearly all holiday shopping complete with just one more gift for the nephew and several needed for dad. 

Now I'm home after an evening spent with the family, walking downtown to the Christmas tree lighting. After, to the Temple lights where Beckett sat in his stroller, my red knit sweater wrapped around him as he stared at the twinkling lights. I'm extra thankful for my little cousins and how each smile and laugh makes me mirror the same. 

The night ended driving home alone, listening to Adele's "Water Under the Bridge" on repeat, singing at the top of my lungs, the sunroof open and a huge moon glowing above the mountains in the distance.

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