Right, but Where's My Mom?

There are lots of moms who start the day hours before their children. Those wee small hours of the morning are theirs alone, and they love the quiet that comes with a sleeping house.

I am not that mom.

I love to contribute to the sleeping house, until I have to do otherwise. Once or twice a week, I make it out of bed before the boys, and when I do, it's indeed a great start. And I remind myself that I too could enjoy the morning solitude more often. But then the next morning arrives, and the snooze button is far more inviting than a cup of coffee by myself.

So, most often, Tucker wakes me up in the morning. He brings his groggy self down the hall and into my room, and he gently taps on my forehead to alert me of his presence. And that's my wake up call. (Tyler would happily stay in his crib with his blankets until ten o'clock, but I've never let him.)

One morning last week, on a rare day when I listened to the alarm clock and started the day before the tap-tap-tap on my forehead, I greeted Tucker in the hallway as he was traveling to my room. He was very snuggly. Suddenly, he abruptly stopped hugging and said, "Oh, wait. Mommy. In bed."

He left me in the hallway to look for me in my bed.

That's early morning logic for you.