Early mornings come a dime a dozen in this household. There’s this thing I have about sleep-training babies; when they wake up anytime after 5am, I go and get them and start the day. Trying to put them back to bed at 5:30 always seems to backfire (either they continue to cry until 6 – which usually means they were ready to rise, or they fall back to sleep for a few hours – shifting their naptime further into the day, defeating the entire sleep-training purpose of a scheduled routine!), and so when my little loves wake at 5:45 I’m at their bedside with a bright (fake!) smile and good morning hugs and kisses.
The months leading up to the hour “fall back” were dark, dreary, and dreadful; I despised having to wake up and play with Hudi when the black of night was creeping in from the window! It didn’t matter how warm and rich my coffee was, or how many hours of good sleep I got, it was miserable to be up in such a state. It was at least an hour of pitch-blackness before I could even open the blinds and let in the first little rays of sunlight…
So while everyone was busy complaining about how early their kids would be waking up, I was so excited about the light the morning hours would be graced with that I just didn’t care about the fact that 6 was really 5 – I just wanted to open those blinds and wake to the daylight! To me, there’s nothing yummier than warm golden sunshine streaming through the slightly-frosted windows, illuminating the little tuft of bedhead on the back of my babies sweet little head as she crawls around the playroom searching for the mornings most exciting toy, while I sip a freshly-brewed cappuccino and listen to the mellow stream of my kids Pandora playlist, waiting for Freida’s bright morning face to appear in the doorway. Priceless.