This morning I woke to the dulcet tones of my youngest. She woke up to her fathers alarm, which I did not hear. I could tell that because the sleep clogged form of my husband loomed in the door way. "I will get her" I said.
"Oh" He said, pausing. "that's good." As he went into the bathroom, the releif evident in his shoulders. We've been fighting a family cold. My dose is the slimmest, but I'm also dealing with all the sick-o's and sleep deprivation. Hence, my being up to get the morning call made his morning easier; that and tylenol.
"Thank you dear" I said as I carried her gift into the living room. It was my husbands camera, almost identical to Nahnis, save the lack of a swanky strap. Rolling my eyes I set it up out of easy reach. The siren in the other room was at "Get me now" levels. When I picked her up, Nyobi at my heels, she immediately started giggling. The younger two jumped up and down and tried to help me make milks and coffee. They helped me fold up the futon. They insisted upon snuggling with me, and then tickled each other on my lap. This is how they wake up. Fast easy and ready to go! They have no tolerance for my clueless stumbling.
A half hour later, my eldest floats out of the bedroom on a cloud of sleep fog. She shifts back and forth finally resting on the futon. She climbs up next to me and sits side ways.
"Morning" I say.
"Mmmmm" She says. Then she realizes she is sitting on her blanket. She pulls on the edge of it. It will not move. She shifts her weight, and pulls harder. Before either of us can react, she flips herself off the edge of the futon, as the blanket pops free. In a stunned heap on the floor she begins to pout. I have to lift her back up on the futon.
This is how I wake up. My husband has learned (he tells me through survival instinct) how to cope. Offer the morning beverage of choice and back off until they start talking.
Where IS my coffee?