Morning Hours

The first rays of sun are coloring the sky as I do my morning stretches. I would like to do a full workout first thing in the morning, but at least I’m getting my muscles warmed up. The kids are fast asleep upstairs, only the little one inside my belly is awake with me, kicking and making (His? Her?) presence known. I eat breakfast, relishing in the quiet- no loud chomping and smacking noises coming from across the table. I grab my morning cup of coffee, pen and paper, and sit down with my thoughts. How good it feels to let the whirling in my head slow down. To let the thoughts start to connect and make sense as they get jotted down in ink.

Before I’m ready, I hear the first rustlings and squeaks coming from their rooms and my first thought is “Not yet, please. Five more minutes.” Just like when my mom used to wake us up on those cold school mornings. The blankets were so warm around me, my good dreams still fresh in my mind. Five more minutes of sweet oblivion in dream world before starting the long day of school. Just like now, I want five more minutes of me time, of thinking time, of peace and quiet and just being.

But then the feet come pounding down the stairs, so full of energy to face the day. They view today as a gift, with so many surprises inside. I can practically hear their thoughts all the way in the kitchen, “Should I play with my dolls first? Maybe I could convince mom to snuggle on the couch for a bit and read me a story.. or two.. or three. Or, ooh look! It’s sunny outside! We could go to the park or ride bikes, or climb a tree. Or stay inside and play playdough!” The options are endless and so full of innocent joy.

I hear them approach the wall that separates the living room from the kitchen, and the steps hesitate and slow. They peek around the corner to see where I’m sitting, and I feel my heart ache. Their sweet little eyes are anxiously scanning my face to gauge what my mood is today. “Is mom happy to see me? Is she busy with something? Is it okay to be downstairs yet?”

I put down my pen and open my arms for a big hug. Their faces light up and they rush towards me, happy to be in my embrace. I put aside my own thoughts and plans, they will wait for the next quiet moment that I find. Now it is time to be mom – and isn’t that special?