The children usually get up before I do. I can hear them moving around, using the bathroom (they are both capable of managing that on their own now!), and talking. Sometimes they discuss strategy before they invade my bedroom to wake me. One day they were about to come in when Livia warned, “But Mommy said one at a time!” And Marshall replied, “No, she said we could only go in one time.” They continued this debate in adorably serious tones for a while, but to little purpose. Ultimately they both came in, same as always.
They’ve developed what they seem to think is a stealth approach. They get down on the floor and crawl past the foot of the bed so that I can’t see them. They pop up when they reach my side of the bed. Then one of them does something that they think will wake me up, like poking my nose or blowing in my face. And they say, “Mommy, we want to get up now.” That amuses me, because they’re already up, obviously.
I’m always awake when they come in but rarely ready to get out of bed. I’m thoroughly exhausted in the morning, no matter what time I go to sleep. I feel bad for not getting up earlier to take care of them. But as much as our mornings aren’t perfect, I love the little ways the kids have developed to “manage” me. And they seem to enjoy their routines, too. So it works out in its own strange way.
Adorable!