No, it's not the sound of one hand clapping. It's the sound of my three children. Asleep. At 8:03 a.m.
Oh, how I have dreamt of this day.
Melody, for YEARS when through life with the philosophy, 'If I am awake, so are you!' and would go around the house tugging on blankets and shouting, "Awake! Awake! It's early in the morning!" Charlie has witnessed this (or suffered through it, depending on the day) enough times that he now does it too.
When I was the first one up at 7:14 this morning, I was overjoyed. I'm normally happy if the sun beats at least one of us up. I have sat here with my coffee listening to their little nose-breathing rhythms for almost an hour now.
About twenty minutes ago, I heard footsteps and froze. Melody stumbled to the couch, demanded a blanket, and is now sleeping open mouthed with one eye slit just a bit. When she was a baby, she would sleep with her eyes open and it always freaked me out. I just *knew* she had to be dead. Once I got used to it, it still felt creepy.
When she went back to sleep this morning, I shouted very quietly on the inside.
8:07 and Dixie just padded her bare feet from her room to ours. I'm guessing she's snuggling up to the very warm Daddy. She's always been more than willing to sleep in, but in her 2.5 years here has rarely gotten the chance. No one sleeps when Melody is awake.
I had a friend in from out of town last weekend. Her plane got in at nearly midnight and she was up until two. As I left for work at 6:30, I warned the kids to let her sleep in. At a bit after eight, she reports waking up to three little faces staring straight at her and a stuffed puppy placed next to her head.
it's 8:10 and Charlie just woke up coughing. I opened the door to his room and bleary blue eyes barely looked up with me as he clutched his red foam football and dragged himself into bed with Dixie and Daddy, barely lifting his feet enough to step along the way. I can hear his sweet voice, you know what it's saying?
"It's early in the morning . . . Awake!"