good morning, indeed

If you've spent more than 3 seconds with me, you know I'm a creature of habit and it should come as no surprise to learn that we have a specific routine that we go through most mornings. I say most because although Mama likes her routine, there is nothing quite as unpredictable as a 4 year-old with his mind made up to do things his own way, whichever way the winds of preschool rationality might be blowing at that very instant. Mostly we deal. Boundaries and structure and expectations, oh my! keep us more or less within the box of normal-to-us (aka that comfortable zone wherein Mama doesn't freak out too much).

Most mornings look like this:

Josh gets up and the countdown begins. Sometimes I'll get another 3 minutes, sometimes another 15 before I hear the unmistakable smwoosh-smwoosh-smwoosh of footy pajamas scuffling across the carpet. On a good (dry) morning, I can pull up the covers just enough that Aaron can scoot in and then we have a 5-15 minute snuggle before he can't stand it anymore and then we're off and running. Other mornings involve a jammy -n- pullup change first and then all bets are off re: snuggle time. Josh leaves, we get dressed, breakfast, blah, blah, blah, morning routine, Mommy why does (this) and where does (that) and how do (those), and then it's lunchtime. Unless it's a school day and then there's a whole 'nother set of possibilities. But for the most part, there's comfortable regularity. And regularity, much like my morning cup of coffee, is critical for setting the tone for a day of general happiness and unburned dinner.
There are, however occasional exceptions. This morning looked like this:
Josh got up and left for work early. 45 minutes later, smwoosh-smwoosh-smwoosh, butt pat to check for dryness, covers lifted and snuggling denied with a sweet little whisper: "Mommy, I don't want to go to sleep again." Whaa? "Mommy, I want to make breakfast." Ugh. Well, he did go to bed early last night and didn't eat much dinner. He probably is hungry. "Okay, Bug, what do you want for breakfast?" "No, Mommy, I want to make breakfast. For me and you to eat in your bed. Are you hungry for breakfast?" Awww! "Sure, Bug. You know what sounds really good? How about a banana?" "And, and a cookie?" "Ooh, that sounds delicious! Go grab a banana and a cookie and we'll have breakfast in bed." Shweew! If I find PBS or Nick Jr. before he gets back up here, I can snooze for at least another 15 minutes before he runs out of banana and cookie. Glad Josh made oatmeal cookies this weekend. That's practically the same as cereal, right? Now where is that remote... Meanwhile, downstairs, I can clearly identify the sound of the cookie jar lid being set on the counter top. Seconds go by, then hmmm. Was that the sound of refrigerator door opening and shutting? Metal crashes against metal. Crap. I better get down there. Silence. A little too silent. Door/drawer slams. Cookie jar lid again... this is taking far longer than grabbing a banana off the cabinet and one cookie should. Where are my socks? Brr! It's cold out here. Better grab a sweatshirt, too. Joiiiing! What is he doing down there? Oh wait, here he comes. Stomp, stomp, stomp, smwoosh-smwoosh-smwoosh "Here's your breakfast, Mommy!"
Banana and cookie, as discussed. No, it's not a fancy oatmeal cookie.
Probably no nutritional value to it whatsoever.

And inside?

That's one carefully cut apple (incisions courtesy of his butter knife),
and four blueberries (that's two for you and two for me, Mommy),
generously drizzled with honey.

"But it needs to be cooked, Mommy. Remember? I'm the chef. I'm the one who makes things. But you are the cook. So let's go cook it. Come on, Mommy."

So we did. And let me tell you, it was delicious.



Jacqueline said...

awww! I love this! I hope I get a breakfast in bed like this sometime.

Amy Jo said...

That is so sweet! What a lovely little boy!

Lora said...

I'll bet it was the best breakfast you ever had!