Each day begins the same. I wake up a few minutes before everyone else. I am not sure if it is my internal alarm clock that buzzes somewhere deep in my subconscious or possibly the subtle rustle of a baby and a basset hound that gain intensity as the sun rises above the horizon, light leaking in the gaps between the window frame and the blinds.
Eric never wakes up early. I look over at him and see his breathing, slowly in and out. Sometimes just watching him is enough to put me back to sleep, but then there are the joys of morning. The first smile from Cordelia. She has to look for her dad and then for Bumblebee. She pats Eric's face. Her chubby hand is particularly uncoordinated first thing in the morning, fingers waving in the air above his face before making contact. We are just a tiny family enjoying our moment.
Then it's over the quiet moments for sloppy smiles and morning breath are replaced with the getting ready for the day activities. A different kind of joy. We bumble through the house, hair sticking out in all directions, passing the sweet girl between us for cuddles. Somehow we all end up dressed fed, changed or let out. Lunch is packed and Eric is out the door.
I stand there bewildered for a moment and then I take a deep breath and carry on. I make the bed and pick up the house, getting myself ready along the way. Cordelia and I spend some time playing and then she's ready for a quick morning nap. As she nods off I watch her chest expand and contract with each tiny breath. If I hunt around the house I can see the the cats and Bumblebee have also retired to their nap spots.
Silence reigns for about an hour. I text Eric funny jokes (or at least I think they're funny), check in with my family and do whatever else I can with that window of time. Admittedly I sometimes just sleep right along with the gang.
Soon enough Bumblebee whines to go on a walk. We all get ready and head outside, breathing in the fresh air. Lately it has been so windy that the air pretty much forces itself down our lungs, no need to bother ourselves with the effort of breathing. I talk to Cordelia and Bumblebee about spring and sun and whatever else happens to catch my eye. Sometimes Cordelia mumbles or sings happily as we stroll.
When we come home it's time to play or read or just roll around on the ground until lunch time and that is how the morning goes. What about you?