Cheese and Cherubs
Contributor
This is what it’s like to be a mom in the morning: I wake up at 5:45 and the children are still sleeping. I do a happy dance in my head at the thought of being able to shower without my daughter standing on the other side of the shower curtain crying because she either can’t see me or she wants to be held. I get out of bed to take that shower and have a nice long one with a good shave and everything. I walk out of the bathroom into my closet to set out the clothes that I will not have to iron or do anything with but wear. (I intentionally planned the outfit in my mind just before going to sleep just in case my daughter WAS awake too early and I would have no time for fussing with getting dressed.) I go downstairs into a clean kitchen since we ate out last night and there wasn’t anything to clean before bed and I have bran flakes with a teensy bit of sugar and make my coffee. It’s 6:15 and still no stirring of the children. I’m really on a roll now, filling up two sippy cups (finding lids for those fellas is like trying to find matching socks - you are near to cursing by time you’re done) and plastic bags with Goldfish pretzels for our drive to daycare. I notice as I’m standing at the sink that the flowers out back need some watering so I grab the can from the front porch and hydrate the cascading pansies which look a little sleepy, I’m guessing from the nighttime hours. Then I finally hear baby girl. She is sitting up in her crib looking disoriented and puffy like a little cherub who's had too much to drink. Her cuteness makes me literally squeal, every time. I throw open her curtains and let the sunshine in like a princess in a Disney movie and pick her up, deciding that before I even change her diaper and get her dressed I will hold her, for as long as I want, in her rocking chair. We cuddle together, I give her some milk, and she does this: eyes closed, hands stroking my nightgown and hair, making little groans of pleasure as she lies there like that on my chest. I tickle her belly, she giggles, still not letting go of me or my hair in her hand. I decide though we better get this bus moving so it's towards the changing table we go, and I dress her in pink leggings with a black tee-shirt and multi-colored stripes, kind of a party shirt from the 80’s—perfect for a Friday I thought. We walk out to turn on Kai-Lan (the CUTEST show on television) and I know that turning the TV on will wake my three year old son up which is a good thing since I’m trying to move the bus along. He pokes his head out from behind the chair and I pretend that he scares me (a little game of ours) and he laughs hysterically ‘cause how fun is it to scare your mom? He decides he will be a mouse this morning and starts squeaking and asking for cheese. “The orange kind, mommy mouse? Not the yellow, the orange. That’s like a shape, like this, (he makes a shape with his hands) like a rectangle.” I’m so happy he woke up like this instead of the other few mornings where he is Mr. Grumpypants’ evil twin and demands for things instead of asking like he is now. I finish blow-drying my hair while baby girl is discovering how to open and close doors and my son is eating his cheese. I drop them off at their angel-of-a-caretaker's home and decide by the look in her eyes and by talking with her that she slept one hour the night before since she has family in town from overseas and they were up until 2am talking. Instead of going straight to the office, I hit up the drive thru Caribou Coffee and order two dark chocolate mochas (one for her and one for her helper) and for me, a half-caf with plenty of steamed milk (I already had one cup this morning!) I get into work by 8am. And that’s a good morning I’ll say!

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