Every Morning When I Wake Up

Every morning I must kiss her animals, one by one, and then have them kiss her. Then we sing, usually our special version of Little Bunny Foo Foo, before she puts them all “night night” so we can get on with our morning. Lately that has involved her pointing to different features on my face while I tell her what they are. So far the only one she repeats back is “nose”, but I’m sure she’ll be saying the others soon enough. 

If I haven’t already put my glasses on she gets them off the headboard and smashes them on my face, and then if I’m not very quick she’ll whip her diaper off and then laugh as I chase her down to put another on. 

How have I not always been a morning person? There is a quiet magic about this time of day. Or maybe it’s just her. Maybe it’s just the way she takes my face in her tiny hands and says “Mama? Mama!” over and over sweetly as if she knows that I don’t want to wake up at 5:30 but that I will for her. I won’t regret a moment of the sleep I could be having either.

The way she puts her stuffies night night is extremely familiar. It’s actually a pretty accurate representation of how I end up most nights after a child or two crawls into bed with us. I feel this bear in my soul!