Its siren jolts me out of my drool and I silence it. Just five more.
But the alarm assails again and the squirrels from my dreams get freaked up the tree. So I add five and five to ten and ten till the numbers no longer add in my favor.
I sit up and put feet to the carpet. I feel old today, creakier, fatigued. I’m mad at myself for staying up late. The circles under my eyes are like craters, deep and dark. I am holding out hope for a shower. There may still be time.
I open the linen closet for a towel and it creaks loudly. Both children hear it from their beds. Man… There goes the shower. Red Sox hat will have to do, again. Thank God for sweet husband, who prefers the natural athletic look (albeit reeky.)
Little Man cries my name in frustration already. He’s his morning momma’s boy, grouchy and irritable – throwing out needs that I’m not ready to catch yet. “Baseball bat is?” “Eat.” “Wear shirt with seven on back.” (It’s a three.)
And then there’s Beautiful, jumping out of bed, as the sun on caffeine might. The girl is happier than even the sun. She pilgrimages to the potty and needs toilet paper.
In the bathroom, I wait for her to finish. Her eyes are bright, alive with curiosity. “Mommy, why do you have your jammies on today? What’s for breakfast? Can we make French toast together? Do you have eggs and vanilla? We could pour the syrup we made! What else can we do? Is it too cold for a walk? Maybe we can do a show!”
Her questions make me smile. She is vibrant and happy and awake to wonders. There is no such thing as ordinary, drudgery. Her morning is alive with possibility, imagination, song, questions. Beauty finds itself in every inquiry, in every pour of syrup, in every walk in the sun or in the rain. It is her morning to grab with anticipation.
No, it is ours.
This will not be a perfect day. There will be bills and bad news and a burned casserole, a mommy who stinks and a little guy prone to disaster.
But this is a new day. A new day for discovering bugs under rocks and falling down makes you cry and a Daddy’s hug is the best thing coming. This is our day for feeling life – every tear, smile, discovery, and question – the whole of it.
Our day for the taking and the breathtaking.
It’s a new day and I will choose not to sleep through this one. Better go brew a coffee to keep up with the sun.