Mirror, mirror ...

Although today has barely begun - it's just after 8 a.m. - I suspect it's going to be one of those emotionally trying days. Great. I'm glad I ate a good breakfast to have the energy to deal with this yet again. I'm sure I can point the finger of blame to a shitty night's sleep, or at least partially place blame there. It was one of those nights where nothing was comfortable: The sheets felt too hot; my pillow was too flat; my nightshirt kept twisting around my body.

Maybe I'm partially to blame for this state of mind, although my motive seemed innocent enough at the time ...

Last night I decided I needed to compare my facial features to that of my beloved little boy. Mike and I have joked many times about whose physical traits were passed along to Ryan, but in my opinion, he's a mini Mike. To satisfy my curiousity, I decided to compare myself to Ryan in the only way I can: by holding his picture next to mine while looking in the mirror.

I stood in my bathroom for what seemed to be an eternity, trying to stake my claim to any features in that adorable little face looking back at me. Hair? No. Eyes? No. Cheeks? No. Ears? Maybe. Nose? Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!

Long after my comparison was complete, I continued to stand there holding Ryan's picture. I guess I was imagining what a portrait of a mommy and her son would've have looked like. Or what it should've looked like ...