I was enjoying my days first cup of coffee in the early morning today, perfectly doctored with sweetener and creamer, and I had a chance to take in my surroundings outside on my deck. It was still dark outside, chilly and quiet, the world felt like it has not yet stirred and I was gifted these few moments of peace to think, to breathe, to just be. I was enjoying myself so much that when reality hit me with the notion I better take it in now real quick and in a hurry, I almost had a physical jolt. My eyes widened, my body stiffened and I couldn’t help but take another sip of coffee even though I had just removed my lips from the rim for fear it would be my last, I would surely be activated shortly. I am a mother and every mother out there knows that these small moments stolen to oneself are not only much needed but can be few and far between. As soon as the thoughts of "getting this over with" entered my brain and had time to settle the connection between mother and child must have rattle. My peacefulness officially ended not 2 minutes later when I heard the faint squeak of my one-year-old son upstairs. It is almost as if he knew, "mommy is taking time to herself", and I can imagine in the mind of a baby (and even though he is "officially" a toddler, he is still my baby) this was just unacceptable. Tattle tails invaded my son’s dreams sending images of either one of two things: 1. me, mommy, spending time alone, or, 2. he and I doing something together. Either way he was up and ready to go at around 4:10 am, definitely not enough time to finish my perfectly doctored cup of coffee. Let us not mention the fact that he went to bed at 9:00 pm the following evening and felt like taking in a movie between 12:00 am and 2:00 am, snacks included. I wish I were making this up.
Now normally the day starts around 6:00 am. This allows plenty of time before the baby wakes up to make myself look like a woman and not a sweat pant clad, pony tail donning, "is that a man or a woman" question mark. I get his breakfast ready, which is usually sizable; 2 eggs scrambled, fresh orange juice, 1/2 a piece of toast with peanut butter, some fruit or avocado and sometimes even a cookie afterwards (I am sure this seems like a lot but if you were to see him you would wonder where it is all hiding) finish the dishes from the previous night and just get organized. However, this morning, since the above described activity took place at 4:00 am, here I sit in my sweatpants, wearing a pony tail high in my head hoping that no one comes to my door for fear of scaring them, recounting the mornings chaos and laughing to myself. I love my alone time but cherish the time I get to spend with my children, especially when they wake from their sleep to spend time with me. Motherhood is a blessing, a funny, dirty (and I mention this because after one day in daycare my son has the never ending snot drip of green boogers so sticky they could hold bricks to the ceiling), surprising gift. And what a blessing little babies and small children are not afraid of sweat pants.