Mornings start out with a groan. Well, actually it’s usually a screech and/or squeal coming from the twins’ room. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, and then, elbow Andy in the back, and push myself out of bed.
When I open the door to their room, they are both standing clutching the rails to the cribs and start jumping up and down. Laughing for a moment, and then a puckering-up cry, like somehow they (meaning, A) know how that face has the power to coerce me to do anything. And suddenly, I’m awake and laughing. I scoop both of them up, or if Andy is there, he picks up D and we dance around for a bit, and we carefully stumble our way downstairs fighting off grog. They are screeching and squealing in our ears at each other.
The rest of the morning is a blur. Back in the day we used to be able to leisurely get on our laptops to read papers and blogs, let Ellis out, make breakfast and coffee, watch the morning news, etc. Granted, I do put on Good Morning America for at least a half hour, and Andy usually manages to get the coffee started for us, but the rest of the time is refereeing the babies as they struggle over territorial dominance, and a monopoly of the stacking cups and cars.
This morning, Andy went out to get bagels for us (a treat), and I sat at the breakfast bar inhaling it and chasing it with coffee (I sit on a stool because with the babies the higher you can be out of their reach the more productive your brief moment). Andy was hunched over at his laptop and eating his bagel, too when both babies realized he was easily in reach. They crawled over and pulled on his legs, standing, both howling and puckering up for his attention. He gave in.
One at a time he helped the babies walk across the floor with his back bent over impossibly and uncomfortably (it seems unnatural to walk that way) as they held onto his index fingers giggling with pleasure at this miraculous feat called putting-one-foot-in-front-of-the-other. Sort of. And I just watched in awe. And thankfulness. Our mornings, though routine-less, noisy as all-get-out, chaotic – an understatement – are full and lovely. We’ve lately had jazz music playing in the backgrounds, and that feels appropriate – the improvisation of notes and melodies seems fitting to our fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants mornings. Plus, it gets A going, she loves dancing and shaking her little boo-tay. During the early hours of chaos, we have coffee and even breakfast once in a while, and a few precious moments of reading, and a caffeine jolt of love from the babies. And I love taking long swigs of that love. It’s all that I need usually to get going for the day.
Yeah, mornings are different now. But, they’re good. So damn good.