Thursday, September 6, 2007

Hokey Pokey Morning.

Yesterday morning I was sleeping peacefully when I heard a whine at the side of our bed. It was my little tot of course, wanting one of us to hoist her up into our bed, so my husband quickly obliged. I heard him several times trying to shush her whining but I knew I was going to have to come out of my slumber, crawl out from underneath the warm covers, and make the morning trek to the fridge to get the little whiner a sippy cup full of milk. So I did. And she drank it down and Hal cuddled her again, shushing her, shhh Sarah be quiet, it's not time to get up yet.

Oh but it was. Within moments after I'd slithered back twixt the sheets and she'd gulped down her milk, I felt her little bony elbows digging into my chest. She was crawling on top of me, and soon after the gouging elbows she was sitting right on top of me, my c-section scar underneath her rear end.

"Mommy, mommy! Let's sing!" Then instantly she starts bouncing/dancing and I begin to laugh and groan, (a) because I haven't gone to the bathroom yet and my bladder is full, and (b) because she's a 32 pound wrecker ball pummelling my mid-section.

"You put your right han in, you put your right han out, you put your right han in and you shake it all about! You do da hokey pokey and dat's what it's all about!"

Hal laughs and stares through the dim light at her, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Why is she so happy in the morning?"

Answer: Because she doesn't have to go to work darling.

She bounces some more, and loudly sings what we refer to as the Sarah Medley: a lovely rendition of Finkle, finkle little star, the ABC's, and Where is Thumbkin?

Finally Hal is able to drag her off of me and get her to slip back underneath the "cubbers" and snuggle somewhat quietly with him. I roll onto my side and look at my sweet little child with her eyes closed and her thumb in her mouth and I silently hope that it's not time to get up yet.

In that instant the alarm goes off. Welcome to another day.

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