Sunday, May 20, 2012
I’m never really sure what the mornings will bring. Getting out the door involves a lot of change in a short amount of time, and that can spell disaster for any one of the four of us. On the flip side, we’re all more rested than we will be the rest of the day, so it can be one of the friendliest, warmest times of day, too. Last Friday, we had one of the sweetest mornings I can remember.
I’m usually up first, though occasionally Nathan makes it into the shower while I’m still sleeping. On this day, Nathan was off to work very early, so it was just me and the boys. My first instinct when I wake is to check the boys on the iPad, to see who’s awake and who is asleep. Two sleeping boys means I should dash through my shower quickly. If Miles is awake, he’ll usually sing or talk to himself for a good long time. He loves his bed. Noah has about a ten minute window between wakefulness and wailing. This Friday, I managed to get my shower and get dressed before getting Noah up and ready.
When Noah and I went to wake Miles up, Noah climbed into his big brother’s bed. Miles was in the middle of telling me a story about Tracy’s new friend “Razzy,” and I was trying to make sense of the details (Miles’ daycare teacher has a friend with two horns? Must be a pretend sort of friend...) I was also marveling that Miles was not frustrated by Noah in his bed, in fact, without really seeming to think about it, Miles reached out and rubbed Noah’s back, and then gave him a kiss. Very nonchalantly. Noah snuggled up and put his head on Miles’ pillow. This melted my heart.
As I dressed Miles, I had to check his stomach for paint. He’d scared me out of my wits the night before, with a big red splotch of paint on his tummy. Seen in the half light of a sleeping jammie change, I thought he’d broken out in some kind of horrible rash. I asked him if he remembered having paint on his tummy, and he said, “That’s the point, Mommy.”
I always strive to minimize the amount of time between when the boys wake and when they get breakfast. The longer the delay, the greater the chance of grumpiness. On this day, we made it downstairs quickly, and we had time to enjoy a rare sit-down breakfast at the table. There was no drama about who would drink from which cup. There was no meltdown over what food we did or did not have available in the kitchen. Bananas, milk and dry cereal for Noah, and cereal with milk for me and Miles. All prepared and served to a rousing serenade of “La Bamba,” courtesy of Mr. Miles. Bliss.
Midway through the meal, Miles announced that he had to poop. Inwardly, I groaned, as a trip to the bathroom is always a potential minefield. I was debating whether to leave Noah in his highchair, or to get him out and bring him along, when Miles declared he was going to use the big potty, by himself. Moreover, he said, “If YOU need help, Mommy, just call!” Noah and I gave each other high fives. Miles’ three year old delight spilled over and included even the placement of his step stools. I had lined two up side by side, so he could get from the potty to the sink easily, and he exclaimed, “Mommy, that’s just perfect!”
Getting into the car was equally dreamy. Miles did not request any television--no Bob the Builder, no Dinosaur Train, so I didn’t have to remind him that TV is only for after school. He got his shoes on by himself, and was focused on going to the car “quickly, quickly Mommy.” I carried a gurgly, happy Noah, and Miles held the door for us.
We got to school early, in plenty of time to avoid the parking rush. We stopped first at the infant room, to drop Noah off. The other one-year-olds waved happily at us, and we were all excited to see our beloved Miss Nicole. Miles, who was in Nicole’s class last year, is always happy to tell her what’s on his mind. This particular morning, he treated us to a concert. Using one of the glycerin filled tubes as his microphone, he danced and sang, while the babies gathered around to watch. Noah climbed on top of a drum to dance along. When it was time for Miles and I to go, Nicole offered Noah another banana (the boy loves his bananas!) so he didn’t get too sad about the goodbye.
Miles and I headed to his preschool room, and Miss Tracy, his bestest-favoritest teacher was there. Miles ran over and gave her a big hug. She started to tell me about the puppet they were using with the children to help them express their emotions...they were pretending that he was a student in their classroom, and using him to demonstrate particular behaviors to the children. A goat named Randy! A-ha! So that’s what Miles meant earlier, Razzy, two horns. I put Miles’ sunscreen on, give him several kisses and hugs, and one high five through the window, and I was officially on my way to work.