March 1st

~6:15 - 7:15 AM

I woke in the usual way: my radio alarm clock set to NPR.  I find their voices pleasant, even if it means having the weather report stuck in my head all day.

My 2 year old daughter was nestled into my arm, still breathing rhythmically.  I tell myself every morning that I should move her to her own bed, but how I love having her snuggle in, keeping me warm on these cold winter nights.

My husband, a very deep sleeper, naturally sleeps through the alarm like me daughter. 

I slip from under her, pushing the blanket against her back as I move away. 

Rubbing my eyes, I make my way to the shower, stopping at the back door to take our Sheltie potty.  Having laid out my clothes the night before, I don't have to do a whole of of thinking before 7 AM.  Good thing.

The warm water wakes my senses, as the pleasant scent of shampoo fills the shower. I turn the water off, and begin toweling off: I can hear my girl calling for me, as her daddy comforts her. "She'll be right out, ok?"  I can hear a half-hearted, 'ok' and the rhythmic sucking of her pacifier.  Another habit we never intended to last so long.

I dress, brush my hair, and enter the bedroom with a big bright smile, "GOOD MORNING, sweetheart, how are you"  I learned the happier I am, the better morning we have.

Her clothes are laid neatly on the coffee table: 2 shirts, and 2 pants to choose from.  Again, a lesson hard learned.  One very cold morning, she picked out a pink dress to wear, so I found some pink pants and a turtle neck to go underneath.

She chooses a pair of khakis and her white shirt, and we get ready to head out the door.

I let our Sheltie, a bit miffed, back in the house.