A normal morning in the Howerton household begins with Caleb waking up at the crack of dawn (I say this phrase so often to him, that he defined it to his teacher as "a specific time of day that my mom always says") and intentionally playing legos LOUDLY until everyone else in the house agrees to share in the bliss of the sunrise. And, by everyone, I mean Mike. Mornings are not, shall we say, my favorite time of day. In my defense, I have a hard time sleeping. Mike falls asleep within 20 seconds of hitting the sheets and I usually get to listen to him snore for a solid 2 hours before joining him in dreamland. He has four distinct snores, in case you were wondering.
When I do finally wake up in the morning, I tread down the hallway and begin coaxing Alex out of her deep sleep. I start gently. Then, I start begging. Then, I start threatening every consequence that would matter to her if she doesn't get up RIGHT NOW. She gets up, tears running down her face, and starts getting dressed. When I go downstairs to make breakfast, she sneaks back into bed. I go up and threaten some more. Finally, she makes it down the stairs and eats breakfast dramatically uttering things like, "Why do I have to go to school? How can I learn if I'm exhausted?" Half way through breakfast, she usually cheers up and becomes her normal self.
So, this morning, I was understandably awestruck by the calm environment my dreaming brain awakened to. Kids. Awake. Happy. FEEDING THEMSELVES. Our morning went off without a hitch. Everyone, including me, woke up in a good mood. We held hands and, instead of running , panicked, to catch the bus, we skipped lackadaisically to the bus stop.
As I walked home, I rubbed my eyes, just to make sure I was awake and thanked God for the gift of a pleasant morning. Today started like a breath of fresh air. And, it was oxygen that we desperately needed.