Depending on the day, Craig's cell phone alarm may go off at the side of his bed at 4:30 or he may be donning his scrubs to get ready for work as I crawl into bed. He's off in under 20 minutes to Phoenix Children's or Maricopa County Hospital--depending on the day. I'm nearly always roused and nearly always drift back into dreamland. Really, in these few hours of "light" slumber I am having crazily vivid dreams that have included family tragedies, cartwheeling scorpions, and various tricky situations from which I manage to escape. It is certainly less than restful. Nonetheless I'm grateful for the extra minutes of "horizontality". Because...6:30 nearly always heralds the cries and coos of Hungry Hazel. I shuffle across the wood to the fridge for the bottle. While it heats for 45 seconds I scoop up the gal of this hour and her whole body curls up in a smile. We shuffle back (hoping no cartwheeling scorpions are lying in our path) and slip into *still warm sheets* where she breakfasts and I push back the approaching day with droopy lids. One burp and one fresh diaper later, she's back in bed to snooze through our whirlwind wake up call:
First, Seth at 7:30. He either yells from his bed, mummied in blankets, for me to come find him. He seriously does this every morning (unless he is the first one up). I go "find" him, mustering up enough *silly* that that I know will need to last all day long. Or, cracking my eyes to let in the light oh-so-slowly--"boom!" there he is two inches from my face. Good Morning. He on the counter me in the cupboards, we start his oatmeal. I heat it, he sprinkles the sugar and we stir in the milk. Lucy, follows soon, but not with silliness. She wakes up screaming. She has always woken up this way. We don't know why. So snuggles on our queen-sized guest bed in her room are a morning must with mom. After that a fresh diaper. This exchange, for some reason, always stimulates interesting conversation.
morning snuggle with the girls
me: changing the diaper
lucy: picking her nose then holding out the pickings to me,
me: making "yucky" face
lucy: "mac 'n cheese, eat it!"
me: laughing at her little mind with its already dry sense of humor
Lucy eats a whole banana every morning. We buy bananas for Lucy. She doesn't eat oatmeal and usually just picks at cereal. She still sits in a high chair because for the life of me I cannot get her to stay seated at the table. She is our wildfire...and it starts at breakfast.