My Mornings

My mornings begin through a sleepy fog as my husband wakes me enough for a kiss goodbye. A few minutes later, Elise climbs into his vacated spot in bed. She sucks her thumb, rubs Lambie, and sometimes dozes. Other times I'm peppered with requests for milk and told that the sun is awake so we are all done sleeping. I put her off and try to catch a bit more sleep and remember what is was that I was dreaming about.

Zion's first whimpers or babbles are transmitted to the monitor by my bed, and I hop out of bed in an attempt to shower before he grows too impatient.

Later, showered and dressed, I head into the kitchen for two sippies of milk to feed my kids during our, "milky snuggle time". In Zion's room, I settle him in my lap, his hands trying to hold the sippy cup without loosing his grip on his teddy bear. Sometime Elise squeezes in next to me on the glider. Sometimes she spreads a blanket over my legs to make a bed for her while we rock. And other days she darts around the room while downing her milk.

And I sing. I sing little lullabies or Christian songs. Whatever I want. Their mouths are busy drinking milk and so I don't have to contend with Elise's critique of my song choice or Zion's request for books. But all too soon they are done drinking, I am done singing, and the book reading begins.

I read book and after book after book. It is a stolen bit of time. Sleep is over and yet the work of the day hasn't really begun yet. I'm sitting in the most comfortable chair in the house, rocking away, and snuggling with my kids who don't yet want anything more than milk, a lap, and a book.