Good Morning

Our mornings go a little something like this:

Between 7 and 7:30am we hear the pitter patter of little feet.  If we're lucky, those little feet go to the living room and play quietly.  If we're not so lucky, those little feet get in bed with us and "snuggle".  This continues until Luke starts whining, "Daddy, I'm hungry.  Daddy, let's go eat breakfast" etc. The boys go into the kitchen and start eating their cereal.   I lay in bed until I hear the rattle of the crib bars and Leta's yelling from upstairs usually around 7:30, 7:45 if I'm lucky, which I'm not very often.

I go upstairs and get her.  I put her on her changing table to take off her sleep blanket.  The first thing she does is grab her bottle of Tylenol and hold it while she points to the mouse on the painting that hangs on the wall nearby. Then she points to the balloons the mouse is holding and last at the feet on the baby sampler my mom made her. The mouse painting is one that my Grandma Key painted for me "way back" in 1982.  It's currently getting another round of love.

After Leta's out of her sleep blanket we go and pick out her clothes for the day. She fusses to get a pair of shoes (which she never does because her play shoes are already down stairs.)  Then we go to Luke's room where we get his clothes for the day.  In his top drawer I keep his socks and underwear.  Leta is always hopeful that I'll get a pair of socks for him because she loves to carry them downstairs for me.  Which is funny to me because Luke loved the same thing at her age.  Lately, it's been flip flop weather, so no socks.  Leta ha to "settle" for underwear, which doesn't disappoint her at all because she immediately grabs them from me and  clutches them to herself and hugs them.  Yes, that's right.  Leta hugs Luke's underwear every. single. morning.

Then we go put back the tylenol bottle and head downstairs for our own breakfast.