Maddie wakes up before her mother and I do. She crawls out of bed, and scampers across the hall to the master bedroom. Sometimes I’m awake enough to hear the soft little pad pad pad of her feet on her way in. Of course, I don’t yet have it in me to wake up or acknowledge her. So I just let her walk around to my side of the bed, and hoist herself up and into it. (I might have to scoot in, to make room for her.)
She turns on the TV, which we set to her station on a very low volume, and we let her watch for a few minutes. But she tires of this before I can muster enough energy to wake up.
So she’ll turn the TV off, crawl out of bed, go to the dresser, open my sock drawer, and pull out the top pair of socks for me, and throw them on the bed in my general direction. That never gets me up. She’ll run back to the dresser, open up the next drawer, and fish in the coin holder until she finds a coin with the right traits. She’ll put that in some convenient pocket of my pants.
Then she’ll return to my side of the bed and announce, “All done.” She’s prepared me for work. Time to get up and start the day.
That usually works, and I force myself out of bed. It’s a nice way to wake up. My two year old wants to help me get the day started.
Once it didn’t work. She then ran off to the bathroom, and ran back to my side of the bed.
She’d brought me my cordless electric razor, and turned it on for me. That got me up.
Who We Were Then
- Maddie (2 years old)
- Aaron (0 years old)