Mark is flying home today -- in fact, he just called from Detroit. He's halfway home. I'm glad.
However. . . .I have seen the sunrise for two mornings in a row. This is rare for me. I normally get up at, or before 7 a.m. on Sunday mornings. But weekday mornings? Not so much.
Caroline's bus comes at 7:08 a.m. each morning (except for Wednesdays) and Mark is very sweet, and lets me sleep (on weekday mornings) until 7:45 or so. By that time, Caroline is out the door, and Edison has been taken to school (also by Mark). What I *intend* to do is get up while Mark is taking Edison to school, and be done with my shower by the time Mark gets back home -- so he can have the bathroom. Sometimes it happens. Other times? Yeah, not really.
Both Mark and I start our workdays at 9 a.m. Both our work schedules are extremely flexible.
It's not unusual for Mark to get into work at 9:17, and the same would be true of me. So, our system works, for the most part.
But, with Mark gone, I have had to "do it all" with a smile on my face. And for the most part, that's not been a problem. Getting Caroline up and out the door this morning was fine. She's got such a sweet spirit. When I woke her up at 6:42 this morning, she sat up -- smiled, and talked about getting on the bus. After her PJs were thrown in the hamper, she immediately laid back down so I could take her diaper off and put on a Pull-up. She knows the drill. She's all over it.
Edison got up, ate breakfast, and was ready to go by 7:30 a.m. We made it to school with no major hangups, and by 7:42, I was back home. I watched the sun burn through some misty fog as I drove back home this morning, and kinda remembered how I like early mornings. . . .of course, I always forget how much I like early mornings when I'm staying up late at night. My affection for morning and evenings would be best summed up in the classic 70s ballad, "Torn Between Two Lovers. . . feeling like a fool, loving both of you is breaking all the rules. . . "
As much as I love staying up late at night -- especially when syndicated TV shows are on and I'm sewing, scrapbooking, or just laying around -- I also love sleeping. I love going to sleep. I love staying asleep. I love my bed. I love when it's just chilly enough outside to snuggle under my comforter. Yeah, I love sleeping.
But then I thoroughly enjoy the quiet, mystical peace of the morning. The earth is waking up and that dew-y scent in the air is truly invigorating.
So, I'm torn.
But, I'm grateful that tomorrow morning, my knight in shining armor (a gray t-shirt and PJ pants) will be home. And, knowing him, he'll let me sleep in. I will snuggle down in those blankets and squeeze out another 27 minutes of sleep, even though I'll know I need to get up. And I will forget the bliss that is found in the serenity of the moist morning air.
. . . until he goes out of town again.Ooh, and another plus? I won't have to be the one killling Daddy Long Legs after tonight. The one that "came at me" last night was as big as a chihuahua. Yes, it was. I'm ready for someone else to attack and kill them.