It’s been just over a decade since I awakened to the little voice calling me “Mommy”. It’s as if the word itself is the cue for a spotlight to shine on me. And heeeeeeeeeere’s ...Mommy!
I slept without moving, lulled by the cloudy sky’s faraway thunder and constant dripping rain outside our window. It’s the kind of sleep that makes you want to roll over and keep sleeping. The kind of beautiful not-a-care-in-the-world sleep where you’ve temporarily forgotten the work week has just begun. The kind of sleep that one wishes for on Saturdays and holidays.
But at six a.m. my youngest, now 17, tiptoed into my room, to my side of the bed. I’d slept past the 5a.m.wakeup time.
“Mommy?” I have slept through alarm clocks upon occasion. I have even forgotten to set them. and in recent years I’ve let my circadian rhythm, nearly perfected after all these years, wake me up at a now routine time. Very few things cause it to fail, sickness, time changes or jetlag, though I admit, all alarms have failed at some point. But my eyes never fail to pop wide open and my mind to be so crystal clear as the utterance of that single word.
“Mommy?” She surveyed my face trying to interpret if I was angry, worried or, really awake.
“What is it?” Thankfully there was no immediate crisis. Although her presence in my room meant something significant was afoot.
“There’s no coffee,” she said, stoneware coffee mug in hand. Then an afterthought. “And it’s 6 o’clock.”
I’m glad she gave me the important news first. And I was thankful for the unplanned extra hour of sleep. It made rushing around getting everyone ready for the day’s destiny a little easier to handle.
I slept without moving, lulled by the cloudy sky’s faraway thunder and constant dripping rain outside our window. It’s the kind of sleep that makes you want to roll over and keep sleeping. The kind of beautiful not-a-care-in-the-world sleep where you’ve temporarily forgotten the work week has just begun. The kind of sleep that one wishes for on Saturdays and holidays.
But at six a.m. my youngest, now 17, tiptoed into my room, to my side of the bed. I’d slept past the 5a.m.wakeup time.
“Mommy?” I have slept through alarm clocks upon occasion. I have even forgotten to set them. and in recent years I’ve let my circadian rhythm, nearly perfected after all these years, wake me up at a now routine time. Very few things cause it to fail, sickness, time changes or jetlag, though I admit, all alarms have failed at some point. But my eyes never fail to pop wide open and my mind to be so crystal clear as the utterance of that single word.
“Mommy?” She surveyed my face trying to interpret if I was angry, worried or, really awake.
“What is it?” Thankfully there was no immediate crisis. Although her presence in my room meant something significant was afoot.
“There’s no coffee,” she said, stoneware coffee mug in hand. Then an afterthought. “And it’s 6 o’clock.”
I’m glad she gave me the important news first. And I was thankful for the unplanned extra hour of sleep. It made rushing around getting everyone ready for the day’s destiny a little easier to handle.
1 comment:
Yes knowing there was no coffee I was very careful not to wake Dave up and just you. I must say I stifled the urge to RUN out of your room knowing mass panic would ensue given ya'll had slept so late. It was like walking away right before a wave crashed. haha
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