january 6
It's not like I am jumping out of bed singing to some chirpy blue birds in the morning, but I would call myself a morning person.
Before I became a mother.
And children cried or kicked me awake.
Before they came whisper yelling to my bedside that they have to pee and would like for me to accompany them.
In my life right now, I can't honestly call myself a morning person.
I drag.
But even now, in my sleep deprived state, I still love the quiet of morning.
I love that moment before I head into the monsters lair's and wake up sleeping children, when all is calm, quiet and clean.
I love in the moment before they all come charging upstairs, to look at my kitchen table.
I love to see it clean and untouched, instead of seeing a table that looks like a pile of toast exploded, while milk hailed down upon it and left in it's wake puddles of jam, dismembered lunch boxes, and random colored papers that are in need of my signature, sopping up the mess.
And that, my friends, is just the table.
You should come decorate my kitchen table. It has nothing on it. Except for maybe a sticky spot from where the milk was spilled, this morning.
ReplyDeletep.s. I've never been a morning person.
what a fun idea. (the whole picture a day thing). Can I copy it?
ReplyDeletei remember that feeling. it is one that i miss. i think i will blog about it. thanks for reminding me of happy times. the clean kitchen in the quiet of morning. ahhhhhhhh!
ReplyDelete