I’m not a morning person. I’m sure my mom is nodding her head in agreement as she is reading this post. The sound of an alarm clock makes me growl and nuzzle deeper into my pillow. I’ve always felt like a zombie going through the motions for the first hour after my feet hit the floor in the morning. Brush teeth. Shower. Dress. Sustenance. Coffee.
Now the only morning fogginess I feel occurs in the steps between my bed and Cole’s crib. Seeing my baby’s smile is all the caffeine I need. As soon as I open the nursery door I hear him start to kick his legs in excitement in anticipation of seeing mom or dad come around the corner. He can’t quite pull himself up to standing position, so he strains his neck back while he is on all fours, rocking back and forth, to get a good view.
Waiting for me is an open mouth smile so big I can see his first two bottom teeth poking through. Dimples so deep and nose so scrunched it forces his eyes to squint. The epitome of happiness all rolled up in this moment and in this infant that I love so much. It’s as if we haven’t seen each other in days, when in reality it’s only been 12 hours since I kissed him goodnight.
These moments with Cole bring meaning to my life. And although I never thought it was possible, Cole has made me a morning person. Well…more than before at least!