of a morning
Reeet! Reeet! Roo-reet!reet!reet!
Wee-oot! Wee-oot! Weeoot!
OooEH ooh! ooh! ooh!
I don't often get up before my children, the way all the bloggers tell me I should for optimal self care.
Last night as I crawled into bed, however, I felt my scalp go from unwashed hair day 7 to burning dry fire, so I knew I'd need to get up to wash my hair before my husband left early for prayer. When my 15mo old son squawked his good morning at 5:30am, I popped a paci back in his mouth, snuggled his lovies up next to him, and hit go on the coffee pot before jumping into the shower.
With hair washed and coffee brewing, I shoved the sliding door open to see what the morning world was like. The moon was casting shadows still and I have been looking for light in these days, so I was thrilled. I stared bleary-eyed up at the full moon, not really able to discern if it was foggy outside or just my eyes. And then my attention shifted to the absolute ruckus in my oak tree.
They were all just twittering away in the tree and to my untrained ear, there were at least three different species discussing the morn.
Reeet! Roo-reeeet! Roo-reeeet!
I have never paid much attention to birds because...youth? General inattentiveness? I don't know. But our trees seem to attract them and just this week I've encountered cardinals, doves, a woodpecker in the tall palm next door, two quail darting across a road, and feathery scrub jays popping around the yard. A brief bit of research on the google suggests that the cardinals were loudest this morning. I want to get out my Audobon bird book and my kid's binoculars and see what else I can learn.
I'm not so much a morning person and I've labored under major guilt that I can't seem to rise before my children (one of whom joined me at this table 37 minutes ago [6:24am] and in fact suggested *twitter as one of my bird sounds). But in our house, that's not the rhythm. Our kids go to bed super early so that a) everyone gets their best sleep -- healthy sleep habits, happy family! and b) Daddy and Mama can have awake/alert time together alone. This just works best for our family and what we value.
But times like this, where the moonshine and birdsong make an early morning so appealing, I'm grateful.
So I lit my candle and I prayed actual prayers and I sipped coffee with frothy coconut milk and I waited for the sun to rise on the day.
I can only hold the morning flurry off a few more minutes. The Big Tiny is listening to Ramona Quimby, Age 8 as she plays in her room and the Little Tiny will soon tire of the wooden train and board books I put in his crib. These are the mornings I fantasize about, which every good blogger would laud, but they are not my norm.
I am blowing out my candle now, with hopes that I'll remember to pray the whole day long and additional hopes of only having to reheat my coffee once or twice. And I'll throw on some clothes and go collect the tinies and we'll feast on toast and fruit and and we'll decide what the day holds.
Good morning, sweet loves. Good morning.