When I wake up in the morning, and I see you two in my bed, I want to be mad, or frustrated, or disappointed in myself, but I can’t be. When I wake up in the morning, and I see you two in my bed, and I think about how many times you kicked me in the face or nearly pushed me off the bed, I can’t do anything but stand over you both and smile. I can’t hate myself for giving in, for sleepily walking across the hall to get you out of your crib. I can’t kick myself for not taking you back to your beds. I’m powerless to your little bed-heads and heavy, peaceful breaths, the way your arms and legs are entangled. All I can do is stand over you and smile, while my heart swells looking at you two.
When you wake up, and groggily yell for us from upstairs, my heart flutters because I know we can begin. My mornings are quiet, and yes, peaceful, when you both continue to sleep. But once those first morning calls are made, I’m yours. We eat our breakfast, take our medicines, maybe have a dance party or two, and hang out. It’s our time, as a family of 4, and I so love our mornings together. I love seeing you guys in your pjs, enjoying our time, and begging us not to go to work today (every.single.day). Mornings are our jam.
So yes, when I wake up in the morning, I want to see you guys cuddled up there, still snoozing with Papi. I want your faces to be the first things I see. I want to know you slept well because you could feel us with you. Waking up in the mornings to you two (3, if we add in the big snoozer on the far end of the bed ;)), whether in my bed or your own, are what I love.
I hope you are enjoying these letters, my loves 😉