This morning went so smoothly that I stopped to pick up the dry cleaning on the way to work after dropping Caroline off at school?!?!?

Typically my morning when I am the "dropper offer" entails:

- brushing my hair back into a ponytail yelling at it to STAY (why oh why is your hair not your own when you attempt to shower at night and save time in the am? It is a totally different make and model when I do! It mocks me through the mirror - HA! you thought you could save time - hahahahahaha)
- feeding the baby (which I absolutely relish)
- spooning cereal into my mouth with wreckless abandon while fighting with a tiny infant arm relentlessly batting and grabbing at it
- making my lunch
- examining her veggie of the day for consistency and altering it as needed
- throwing clothes on
- applying minimal make-up
- strapping her into her seat
- kissing her on the head before slamming the cardoor in her face - there is no gentle way to do this!?!

Once we are on the road I can have her to school in 10 minutes or less. I tend to dawdle a bit at drop off and chat up Sarah and Michelle to get their take on how her day was yesterday.

SIDEBAR - Communication with school ... it rears its head again... Yesterday I picked her up and when I opened the front door, I could hear her screaming. Moms know their baby's cry and this was a full out meltdown. Bells, whistles, and sirens were going off in my head. As I approached the door (it is a little half door, enough to corral a child, but low enough that you can reach over etc) I saw her beet red sad crying face as she sat all alone in an infant seat. The person caring for her - who I had NEVER met - saw me coming and immediately went over to her and started wiping her tears. I wanted to say - get your mitts off my kid, if you cared enough to wipe her tears you would have done it BEFORE I arrived, but instead I said - how was her day while simultaneously picking her up and calming her down INSTANTLY. Her retort was that I clearly was not giving them large enough bottles because she had been sad since she fed her at 4:30. Hmmm, interesting observation since I was now holding her and she was no longer crying, though still doing the sad I can't catch my breath yet post cry thing, and playing with my face and hair. I am proud of my retort to that which was, hmmm, she seems fine now, not hungry at all. She just looked at me (GLARED AT ME, shooting DAGGERS with her eyes, D-A-G-G-E-R-S, as if to say lady, do you have any idea what kind of day I have had?) and shrugged. UGH - Sidebar over - I had to mention it because my drop off dawdle this morning was asking Sarah her opinion of yesterday and the milk thing. Sarah says Tuesdays are always hard for Caroline. She assured me that by mid day today she would be happy and much better and that her Tuesday reaction is totally normal, doesn't make me feel 100% better, but a little bit. She too thinks Caroline could use some more milk (HOW can I possibly make more?!?!?! - call to Breastfeeding Resources is already in)

Ok so where was I???

School dawdle, right... After drop off I run back to the car and race all the way to work where I inevitably arrive 10 minutes late to move my in/out magnet to in despite 110% of my best freakin' effort ever. I am not a timely person, we know this - BUT when I put in the effort to actually be on time, could I please please be on time just once????

Despite the terrible weather this morning I was ontime and as stated above stopped to get the dry cleaning. What a miracle!!!! Could this ever be replicated??!?!

Big storms rumbled through this morning just before it was time to awaken the princess who was sleeping soundly in my arms. The time between her initial wake up (which coinicdentally has now stretched to nearly 5 am on average making it nearly impossible for me to fall back asleep) and her actual wake up in my favorite time of the entire day with my family. I am usually between Sleeping Steve and just getting Comfy Caroline. This is the time that I reflect; on when her back was not nearly as strong as it clearly is now while I gently rub it to lull her back to sleep, when she was still so small and helpless that I would have to position her just so to lay next to me and hold her steady in my pins and needles dead asleep arm, to when we were somewhere else and the walls were like windtunnels and I would bury her under the blanket with me and watch her every breath through her tummy, to a time when I was wide awake at the same hour with a belly the size of Chicago and those little kicks would reassure me that all was well, to the days when it was just us and we could not possibly know how much our life would change for the better. I love to sleep, but that time between dark and dawn is the most special and reflective time of the day to me now. I know that 50 years from now I will probably find myself awake at this time again for different reasons and I will recall, with tears I am sure, the way I passed that strange hour with my family and most especially how I spent so very many of them with my little girl breathing slowly, head back, mouth open, looking like the most perfect thing God ever created righ next to my own heart.


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