Rise And Shine

It's 5:30am. I'm sound asleep, curled up in soft, warm blankets, when suddenly Brian's loud, piercing cries resound from the baby monitor on my bedside table.

I feel my body tense, and I hold my breath for a moment...as if this small gesture might be enough to send him back to sleep. I try to ignore his cries for a few minutes, hoping and praying that he's just having a bad dream and will soon quiet down once again. It doesn't happen. His sobs grow louder, and I know that I must act quickly to prevent three little girls from joining us at this early hour.

I drag myself out of bed, recoiling as my bare feet hit the cold, tile bathroom floor. I grab a warm bathrobe, and tiptoe into Brian's room to feed him. Inwardly, I grumble to myself about early-rising babies, little boys that just can't seem to sleep until a decent morning hour.

But then I reach into the crib and pick up my little boy. His fuzzy blanket-sleeper feels warm and soft, and the weight of his baby-body feels just right as he settles into the crook of my arm. As he eats, his chubby baby hand slowly drifts upward, lightly touching my eyes, my mouth and my cheeks, before stopping to rest on the top of my head. His little fingers gently play with my hair, and we sit together and enjoy the peacefulness of a quiet, sleeping house.

I think he knows. Somehow, at only 10 months old, he has realized that this is the only time of the day that belongs just to him. No big sisters are around to demand my attention. If he rises early, he can have 30 minutes of quiet time to enjoy breakfast alone with me. I feel both of us beginning to relax, until finally, his belly full, he closes his eyes and drifts back to sleep.

I hold him for a few minutes, then kiss his soft cheek, and gently place him back into his crib. I close his door, and tiptoe downstairs to make coffee.

There are very few good reasons to get out of a warm bed on a dark, cold morning.

But this is one of them.