Tuesday, July 19, 2011

A Morning to Remember


I write about things that I want to remember here. I want to be able to look back on these years and read about what things were really like. I know that as a mother, memories can blend together. These first two years already feel like a blur so I can only imagine how quickly the years will pass as our family grows. We often ask Mum questions about our childhood and while she has some very clear memories, there are other events that she has no recollection of (like Joseph's birth...it's a bit of a touchy subject. Just ask Joseph). It's impossible to write down everything that happens, but I want Lilly to be able to read snippets of her first few years; the years that she won't remember but the ones that are so formative in shaping who she will be as a person. Well, this morning was a morning that I want to remember.

I woke up at 4:40am...again. For the second night in a row, I woke up to little kicks and punches and some serious relocation going on in my stomach. It always makes me smile, even at night. It was dark and quiet and I felt like I was spending some time with this little one. As most people know, it takes a lot to wake me up. I can sleep through pretty much anything, except during these last weeks of being pregnant. On Sunday night when this happened, and I couldn't go back to sleep, I ended up being so frustrated and exhausted on Monday morning. I was a pleasure to be around, I'm sure. So, this morning, when Jim rolled over and asked me if I wanted to go to the gym first today since I was already awake, I jumped at the opportunity. If I wasn't going to sleep, I was at least going to feel good about myself. I headed off to the gym and was back by 6:15 when Jim went out for his run. Jim and I spent the rest of the morning together before he had to leave for work. When he left at 8:15, Lilly was still asleep and I was sitting on the couch listening to Deuter (some of the most relaxing music I've come across), reading and having tea. I proceeded to fall asleep, and woke up with a jump at 9:30, only to discover that Lilly was
still asleep. We know she's getting new teeth, and her solution to that is usually some extra sleep so I had no intention of waking her. At 9:45, I heard the usual, "COME IN! EXCUSE ME? I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM...NO PEE PEE IN BED!" from the little bedroom across the hall. After going to the bathroom, Lilly returned to bed and asked to read books there ("one more book, Mummy?"), so the two of us spent a good part of the morning lying in her bed reading. Jim put Lilly to bed at 6:40 last night; she was asleep by 7. Almost 15 hours of sleep?! When Lilly turns to me one day and asks if she was a good sleeper when she was little, I will be able to say, without any hesitation, "you were an amazing sleeper!"

As soon as we finished reading in bed, Lilly was up and unstoppable. The house went from being a tranquil haven for relaxing and reading to a toddler's playroom in a matter of minutes. The blocks and legos came out. Judy was taken for walks in her stroller and had naps in her pack 'n play. Lilly decorated toy cupcakes and baked pretend cookies. And so our morning routine proceeded from there. Fruit and coffee for me; apple juice and toast for Lilly; the Tour; and then out and about to do a few things before coming home for lunch and a nap.

Our picnic lunch...paninis, in a tutu of course.

Dad told me yesterday that he wants to get Jim a polka dotted jersey, or a yellow jersey, so that when he goes out for his bike rides, Lilly thinks he's off to the Tour de France. On Sunday morning, Lilly was especially confused because the Tour was on but Jim was at home. Lilly asked Jim, "Where is you, Daddy?" (As a side note, that is one of my favorite expressions at the moment). He told her that he took the day off. Lilly thought about it for a second, nodded her head, and then said, "okay Daddy." Jim and I smiled and went back to watching the Tour. Today, Lilly spotted Jim racing again. He was the one in the yellow jersey. So far, he's having a fantastic race.

Cheering on Daddy in the Tour de France

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