Thursday

It's 5:45am and Hubs whispers,
"Wake up, Babe."
I grumble and thrash around a bit.
"Shh!" he says, "The Big Boy has already been up once and I hear the baby crashing around in his crib."
"What?" I say, too loudly, confused and disoriented. Then the enormity of what he has just said sinks in and I freeze, like a rabbit in the sights of a lion. (Lions don't eat rabbits, do they? Well, whatever - you catch my drift.)

Both children.

Awake.

Before 6am.

I throw on fleece pants and a fleece sweatshirt (news like that requires some major comforting) and I tiptoe downstairs.

Priority 1: coffee.

The Big Boy exits his room (for the second time) at 6:03 and presents himself in the kitchen.

Breathe.

The 30-60 minutes I steal prior to the waking of the children is important to me. I am centered and ready to face the day.

Today, I am not ready but the day has found me.

I try to let go. Focus on meeting his needs, as that is my job.  I try, repeatedly, to push all my other to-do's to the back of my mind where they crash around, crying out frustratedly for my attention.

Breathe. Let go.

Moment by moment.