the sun is streaming in, the swaddled baby burrito is stirring, and I don’t know how long DanO has been gone for work already.
thunk thunk thunk.
OBoy is at his door, asking for it to be morning. morning, Mommy? yes. morning.
he can open his door now, he’s so big and strong, but after enough mornings of a toddler showing up at my bedside at 5:45am, we taught him that he stays in his room until Mommy comes.
stand and stretch. baby burrito is squirming more now, squawking to be free of his swaddle. i unwrap him and his arms fly above his head in a reflex that looks like a tiny celebration of mobility.
thunk thunk thunk.
yes, buddy. it’s morning.
i throw on a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt, probably the same shirt i wore yesterday in a different color, and i am thankful for the storage space and organization we have in our bedroom since moving upstairs. barefoot down the wood-floored hallway to OBoy’s room.
behind the door my eyes and his daddy’s smile look up at me from under a mess of blond curls in monkey pajamas. he is a light. a joy. we tuck his pacifier back into bed and say bye bye to it for the day, then, “Baby?”.
yes, buddy, Baby. Baby is on Mommy and Daddy’s bed. the sound of bare toddler feet down the hallway to our room, where he finds his brother laying happily on our bed. OBoy’s face lights up more, showing that one tooth that came in behind another. like i said, his daddy’s smile… well, before the braces.
we hang out on my bed for a bit. i wonder at the perfection of it.
the windows. the sunlight. the snuggles. the giggles. the white cozy bed linens. my boys. my heart.
and then whoosh.
the baby crinkles his face and makes nursing cues. i catch a whiff of OBoy’s diaper. the day begins. OBoy and i head to his room to get changed and dressed for the day, and before i can pull a tee-shirt over his head OBrother is crying. i go get him, do another round of diaper changes and getting dressed, then we all head downstairs, counting as we go.
one, two, three, four… thirteen steps with a baby in one hand and a toddler holding the other.
one-handed, i set breakfast in front of OBoy, usually yogurt to start, and if i have time i make him scrambled eggs. if i don’t, i pop in some toast, get out the blueberries, and start nursing the baby.
i eat, also one handed, and in a feat i never dreamed i’d be capable of, i pour myself some chai tea while nursing the baby in a football hold.
OBrother is done nursing now and happily kicking around on his playmat in the living room. i get OBoy cleaned up and then i hear the sound of bare feet toddler-running into his playroom. trains crash into each other, a rainbow-colored piano gets played, truck sound effects. i open the door and let the dog out after the daily revelation (o, yea. we have a dog.) then go peek in a mirror.
i run a brush through my hair and toss it in a bun.
my freckles are back for the summer. i skip makeup.
my chai, still cold is waiting for me on the dining room table. i take a sip to the soundtrack of toddler jabbering and trains on wooden tracks. i go over to OBrother and kiss his cheeks. he turns toward me, smiles and coos. he has his daddy’s eyes.
i wonder at the perfection of it.
i let the dog in. suddenly OBoy is under foot, driving a truck complete with sound effects.