Saturday, January 7, 2012

Winter's dawn...

I had it all planned out, and that's so untypical of how I roll.  I thought ahead and ironed Scott a pair of pants to wear to work today yesterday afternoon instead of saving them for the morning.  Me and the kids are having a time adjusting to the back to school hours.  Scott, however, is not; he's always the same and requires far less beauty sleep than I do.

I woke to the sound at 4:43.  Rain.  I counted in my mind... 10, 9, 8, 7, 6.... and there she was at the side of the bed wanting to join the safety that exists only under our covers.  I got up to get her blanket for her with every intentions of getting back in my warm, cozy spot, but she was out like a light by the time I got back.  So, you guessed it... I took my position on the couch.  I still had hope for my sleep-in morning.  I kept telling myself that when Scott got up to shower, I could take his place in the bed and doze back off.  I drifted back to sleep with the patter of rain on the windows.

6:30.  David is awake.  He went to bed last night with a sore throat and a little low-grade fever.  But this morning, his throat hurt so badly he was in tears.  This is not like David.  He complains very little about pain, so I knew he was feeling pretty bad.  I dosed him up with Motrin, wiped his sleepy little eyes and freckles just beneath, and tuck him back in the bed.  I still held a little hope for a lazy morning at this point as I lay back down on the couch and tucked the quilts around me.

I stared out the window, the silhouette of the bare trees against a million shades of grey and blue fusing together seamlessly.  Winter can be so ugly, but somehow, in this promise of morning light, it was stunning.  I watched as a wee bit of pink began to glow sporadically through the blue, and I knew my hopes for sleeping late were doomed.  But seeing that little snapshot of the winter's dawn made it okay.  Wiping the tears from my little man's face and giving up my warm spot in the bed was worth it, too.  They are the immaculate beauty in my life every day.  They are the dawn of my winter's day, the start of something fresh and beautiful, every shade of every beautiful color of the rainbow.

I am still holding hope for a little afternoon catnap, however...

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