Glory, Six Nations


I love Six Nations rugby.

Not only did Six Nations rugby somehow bring two people into the same sports bar six years ago last weekend, I am now guaranteed to sleep in every single Saturday. The boys watch rugby starting at 6am thanks to the fact that we don't live on the same continent as the matches. Glorious. 

Now, I like watching rugby with my husband, but I am more than happy to capitalize on Chris' early wake up and some father-son bonding. 

When I just showed Chris the photo of Conor in the white onesie on my phone and held it up next to the photo of Ryan in the black onesie, he kept saying, "Wow, Conor looks so much chubbier in that photo." I finally told him that the one on the computer was Ryan. I'd say they are brothers.

Our friend, Tom, gave us those English rugby onesies when Ryan was born. They even say Harrington on the back! 

Aaaaaand I just looked up the fixtures for tomorrow, and it looks like they have moved back start time of  the matches. What?! I can't believe the premiere European international rugby tournament schedule is  not revolving around an American stay-at-home mom's life. Hmph. Don't take it for granted that I will always love you for bringing me to my husband and making me a rugger hugger, Six Nations!