Today is one of those days. I woke up at a sharp 5:45am, my eyes were still half shut as I made my way to the bathroom. I tripped over a pile of laundry (clean), a four and a half year old and staggered into the bathroom in search of my toothbrush.
As I cracked one eye open, I noticed that the puffiness under my eyes made me look more like a puffer fish under attack than a sleepless and exhausted mother of two. I dread mornings, like a two year old dreads sharing toys. There is something about sleeping in until the warmth of the sun wakes you up, and when you finally toss your legs over the bed to get up, puffer fish bags, rats nest hair and cotton-ball breath seem to melt away. At least for me.
I digress, I was brushing my teeth, (twice for good measure) and Mr.T was standing behind me watching me. I suppose I must be a rather interesting sight at this disturbingly early hour of the morning. He was just gazing away, without saying too much. When I gracefully spit my Colgate into the bottomless pit, the little man spoke,” I love you Mum.” and then his lanky arms wrapped around me for a tight squeeze.
You’re still wondering why I hate mornings?
After the wonderful snuggle and sincere moment that only I was privy too, my alarm clanged its annoying sound to remind me that I had to get myself looking somewhat appropriate for work. I really enjoy my job, no, I really do. I love what I do, and I enjoy the organization I work with. BUT, I will always love my family more.
Even though I have moments of “UGHHHHH! Pick up your toys! Brush your teeth! Stop hitting your brother!” and while I feel like a Raffi CD on repeat, I still hold and cherish these little moments, that to me, are so much more enjoyable and meaningful than any terrific job.
So after my snuggle, my gentle little kisses, I was disgruntled and annoyed. I would have preferred to be in my soft warm bed, while my two little munchkins hoisted themselves up and under the covers for morning snuggles. I would have preffered to cracked my eyes at 8 o’clock and peered over at a snoozing Mr. Hubby with his jaw hanging open like he is staring at Eva Mendez, and nestle into my duvet for just 5 more minutes.
Staggering through my bedroom at the crack of dawn in search of toiletries, is like sleep walking for me. I will never fully be a morning person, no matter what the salary is, or how terrific the position is. I will, however beam a morning smile when either of my sons, gives me just what I need to start the day.
xxx Hugs xxx