My alarm goes off every weekday at 6:15am, but I don’t need it. I have already been up since 5:45am, like clockwork because since pregnancy that has been my “pee time”. No matter when I have my last glass of liquid or how many times I pee before bed that is the time my bladder decides that it needs to relieve itself.
I groggily make my way to the bathroom to shower, brush my teeth, get dressed and do my hair and make-up. By 7am I hear my husband’s alarm go off and I am ready to go – but I can’t just walk out the door and head off to work and start my day because there is another sound I have been faintly hearing for the last 10 minutes. It’s the sound of my son babbling in his bedroom ready and waiting for me to burst into his room with a big smile and a very cheery “Good Morning!”
No matter how crappy I feel, no matter how tired I am, no matter how deep the hole from which I just crawled out from, I always want to make sure he starts his day with a smile and a cheery Good Morning from his Mama. Some mornings he’s just as cheery, and some he too is tired and groggy but our day still has to begin. I scoop him up and give him the biggest hug I have been dying to give him for the last 12 hours, because as much as I do enjoy the few quiet moments I have after he goes to bed and all the “chores” are done, I still miss him and want to go and snuggle him and play with him. It makes me feel a little bi-polar sometimes, this yearning for “me” time, but this need/want to always be with him. I ask him how he slept, I am not sure of his answer. He’s only just over a year and a half and let’s face it, even if I think he has a vast vocabulary for his age he’s still “baby talking” a lot of the time or merging a bunch of nonsensical words together, like this morning “Pouch peanut butter Elmo moo cow. Yes, snow. Oooo Paw Patrol bum No Odd Squad cuddle”. He must be my kid because even though it makes no sense he talks a mile a minute. Continue reading