It’s 6:20 AM, still dark outside, although the blackness is beginning to turn gray. I creep into Maddie’s room. Maddie is fast asleep, mouth open, arms tossed overhead, legs tangled in her quilt. Peacefully dreaming, holding on to a corner of the pink blankie, always. I open her closet door to find her clothes for the day, and as I do so, I begin softly speaking. “Maadddddie,”, I sweetly coo, “wakey wakey. Time to get up. Wake up, sunshine.” I peek out of the corner of my eye as I rummage through her drawer for purple socks. She is unmoving, too tired to rouse. “Maddie, love. Morning, sunshine.” A little louder this time. “Time to get up, honey.” Nope, not a sliver of movement.
I walk over to her bed and sit. Wiping a stray hair out of her face, I whisper, “Mads, it’s time to get up, lovey. Time for school. Wakey wakey.” She sighs and pulls blankie up closer for comfort. “Madeline….. time to get up, sweetheart.” Is that a snore I hear? I give her a little shake. A bigger shake.
Five more minutes of coos, rubs, soft kisses, gentle pleas.
“Maddie! Wake up!”. I rip the blankets off her. “Maddie!” She grunts and rolls over. “We have to get up!”
15 minutes later, Maddie is finally awake.
I cross the hall to Katie’s room and open her bedroom door. Her room is dark, blinds closed. She sleeps face-down in her crib with her diapered butt shoved high in the air. “Katiebug,” I whisper. Katie sits up, plucks her paci out of her mouth, smiles, and says, “HI!”. Laughing, I pick her up for a morning hug. “Mama!” Katie squeals.
Like night and day, they are.
Our day has begun.