Mornings never cease to amaze me in this house.
It's my favorite time of day. As a recovery from a Thanksgiving week away, I'm not waking up early but instead letting the kiddos take care of it, so every morning I've awoken to Naomi's coos coming from her bedroom (we finally ditched the monitor--with this little lady, a wood floor with fantastic acoustics separating her room and ours is sufficient). Because the coos are not cries, I shuffle into the kitchen first, get a pot of coffee going, make her bottle, turn on the Pandora Christmas station on our iPod, plug in the Christmas tree, and sneak into the nursery to peer over the side of the bed. The biggest most wonderful and beautiful smile, accompanied by several squeals, greets me as I lift my giddy lady out of bed. We settle on the couch for her bottle and eventually the door to Cub's room opens and he emerges, in all of his adorable bed-headed cuteness. I put Naomi in her jumper and shuffle into the kitchen to prepare their respective breakfasts (this morning it was oatmeal with wheat germ, a dollop of plain yogurt, topped with bananas for Cub, and the usual boring baby oatmeal cereal for Naomi). I feed Naomi in her Bumbo as she leans from side to side, reaching for the aforementioned festive decorative vases, and Cub, after his prayer ("DearJesusthankyouforfoodinJesus name AAAAAMEENNN!!!"), manages to get oatmeal in every crack and crevice in the table, chair, placemat, chin, hand, etc.
After a massive clean-up involving chin, hand, and nose wiping, the kiddos return to the living room where they play and I settle to my current spot, with my cup of coffee in hand, to take a deep breath and thank God for the beauty that is mornings at our house.
Good Morning to you!