Let me tell you about my morning. I was enjoying a restful night sleep, dreaming of magic unicorns cleaning my house for me. Then the cries of my tiny human started about an hour before they usually do. I laid there a couple minutes hoping she would fall back asleep, but Avery was determined to be up before the sun today. Losing a round of rock, paper, scissors to my husband, I reluctantly crawled out of our cozy bed, threw my hair in a bun, and met my child’s demands of being removed from her crib.
Then the day went on like all the others. Change a diaper, warm a bottle, read a few Dr. Seuss books, and wait for the sun to come up. This was a morning that I had done over and over again. When our kitchen finally had some light shine through the windows, I started to make us some breakfast. Busy in the kitchen scrambling eggs, waiting for the toast to pop, and eating random goldfish that were left out from the day before, I started to day dream (or morning dream) of the days when breakfast was enjoyed well after then sun had come up and coffee was something I could sit back and enjoy. I was missing my mornings of lounging in bed, and having a morning mimosa if I wanted one (I’m told before kids its acceptable, after kids its called a drinking problem).
I was standing over the sink having a little pity party for my tired self, until I started to hear giggles behind me. I turned around to see my husband and daughter in the living room having a morning dance party in their underwear. I watched them spin over and over again until they would fall over, then laugh as they tried to get back up. I stood there watching in awe of these two enjoying the moment. There was no waking up and getting out the door, there was no urgency in the morning, there was just Avery, Dad, and Justin Timberlake.
These are the days that I have to stop and remind myself of the happiness that these early mornings bring. The start of a new and wonderful day. Sometimes it’s easy for us to get caught up in the mundane tasks of life, but the gift that my tiny human has given me is to find joy in the little things. To dance in your underwear, and spin until you fall over. To unapologetically laugh at your family and yourself because we’re all a little bit kooky.
These morning dance parties aren’t going to last forever. Someday Avery will sleep in until noon, and our morning dance parties will just be a memory. Our funky chicken will make her eyes rolls, and hanging out with mom and dad will no longer be her favourite part of the day. So this morning the eggs waited, and the toast burned, because there was a dance party going on and I didn’t want to miss out!