I’ve mentioned before that my alarm clock wears footie pajamas and requires cereal.
When she was tiny I was awoken with demands of rubber nipples and warm milk.
When she was a little bigger I was awoken with her sumo slamming her feet into her mattress.
A little later I was awoken to sweet baby blabber.
She then learned a few words and I was awoken by “OUT OUT OUT” and other various one word demands.
Then there was the day I woke up to her falling out of her crib. Bad day.
After that day I was awoken to her reading books in her bed (she had no idea that she could open the door and wander free, man, those were the days.)
When she discovered that she could open the door, I turned the lock inside out and was awoken to her banging on the door singing various songs about cereal and being let out of her room.
After she no longer wore diapers I was awoken by the potty dance being performed thisclosetomyface.
Currently I am awoken each day to her door opening, followed by her little shuffle to the bathroom down the hall. I hear her ritualistic morning pee followed by a her little shuffle back to my room. I see her crazy bed head bob all the way around my bed where she then puts one hand on the frame, the other grabs onto my blankets and she yanks herself up with a little grunt. Depending on her mood I am either awakened with a kiss on the cheek or a knee to the crotch. I much prefer the kiss on the cheek.
We snuggle in bed for a bit, she always asks if I had good dreams. She tells me hers, then pretends to be a monster under my covers. I pretend to be scared, then the monster turns into a puppy that pulls the covers off of me. OH HOW I DON’T LIKE COVERS PULLED OFF OF ME. Some days the puppy even licks my face. I’m so not a dog person, pretend or real.
This is our little morning routine. I’ll miss it someday when it’s gone, especially the sound of her little shuffle down the hall and the big smile I get every morning when I first open my eyes and see her surrounded by her halo of insanely frizzy hair.
While it still hurts daily that I don’t/can’t/maybe won’t have another child, I’m thankful that I’m able to be around with the one I do have.
Even though she does pull the covers off of me. Little jerk.
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