My Morning Therapy

I love mornings. No, I mean I really love mornings. Was that convincing? I didn't think so... Who am I trying to kid? I mean really, hypothetically, I should love mornings. The sun is rising when I wake (now at least...), I've had a good night's sleep, and the three precious babies are all together sing-songily saying, "Good morning, Mommy!" Well, unlike the song, one out of three ain't bad, huh!? (I'll give you one guess as to which one it is...) Here's how the rest of it goes down.

My magical morning usually starts around 5:30 or so. Although lately the actual starting point is somewhat fuzzy, as I'm usually summoned out from underneath my warm feather comforter 4-8 times a night by the baby or another child. Thirsty. Water. Thirsty. Milk. Potty. Wee. Potty. Poo. Potty. Two-pound diaper. It also seems that I especially like to practice attached parenting at night with the baby. (That's okay, though. He's cute and has me wrapped around his little finger as did the older two at this age...) Anywho. 5:30 usually sputters into 6:30 or so. Then the floodgates open. I'm not sure what it is lately, but one of the older kids always needs to poopy before anybody is awake, which means that I need to get up to wipe. That's the best way I can think of to start my morning, how about you!? Around the same time, if it wasn't Son #1 who was making an early-morning potty run, then you can bet your last few quiet minutes in bed that Lincoln will be waking up on the wrong side of his car bed at any moment. This was my child that was incapable of waking up grumpy. Not. Anymore. Wailing and crying, grumbling and snuffling, Lincoln has lately been turning Mommy's early-morning thoughts to daydreaming about staying in bed all day. All of this commotion will then wake Son #2 and Sissy if not already awake. "Can we go downstairs noooow," Bella and Lincoln yell.

Once downstairs, the chants of "Juuuice" and "I'm sooo huungrrry" start. Immediately. This is usually accompanied by Isabella's non-stop chatter about all of the goings-on of the upcoming day. (Now, I dearly love my daughter, but some mornings I just have to resort to saying that horrible thing to her... "Isabella, pleeease stop talking for a few minutes.") And so this all goes on for the first half-hour or so of the morning...

Now, here's the disclaimer... Before any of you get carried away by your thoughts of me being a grumpy, tired, unappreciative mommy (well, the first two might be right...), this is just a candid jumble of my thoughts some early mornings after next-to-no sleep. Some mornings are fabulous with no pre-sunrise pooping, grouchy wailing and gnashing of teeth, or waking each other up. Some mornings are perfection. Lincoln does like to snuggle or sleep in bed with us; Bella does like to play in her bedroom until everybody else is awake; and Brigham's cheerful cooing, squealing, and laughing is a beautiful way to start the day. I love being Mommy to the kids and feel blessed that I'm here with them every morning they wake up, happy or not! :)