The Sun Sleeps In

Just put my sweet little Harper back in her swing to catch a few more hours' sleep. I, on the other hand, only have about 33 minutes before my appointment with the toothbrush, and I have recently decided that unless there is more than one full hour of potential sleep time, I am officially up. Matthew somehow hit the wrong button on his alarm clock the other day and inadvertently put himself in another time zone. We think it's hilarious now, but he didn't think so when he was standing in the shower, bewildered by the clock on the bathroom counter displaying 3:30 am. That's the trouble with these winter mornings. The sun sleeps in.

It's still dark outside as I type this, but I can always tell that it's morning by the rhythm of the traffic on the arterial street just outside our door. A few beats between each car- still a little time left before night loses its battle with the sunrise. But as it slowly grows to a steady dull roar, it pulls me to my feet. Something about knowing that the rest of the world is already out there listening to the morning news, sipping coffee, and forming a plan of attack on the day's agenda makes me feel like if I'm still in my pajamas, I'm missing out on something. This morning has already begun and I need to join it now, otherwise two children will go without bath and breakfast and Travis will simply have to project.