It’s 7 am and the darkness in my widows is just turning to a pale gray. The mackerdoodle and her Daddy are still sleeping, but I am up with a very happy cheesedoodle who has been kicking and cooing and even laughing for 45 minutes. The world outside, like my little family, is just beginning to stir, and soon the birds will begin to sing and my mackerdoodle will call out for me, and the day will begin to begin.
A year ago I would have been in my car on my way to work by now. The mackerdoodle, dressed and tired, would have been eating breakfast in her car seat as her Daddy drove us all to school. My car was one that passed by sleeping and stirring houses and broke their stillness just a little. A year ago my day was well under way by the time my mackerdoodle is now only just waking.
The mackerdoodle has now called out “mama mama” because she heard her brother “talking” to me and felt a little excluded. When I sat on the side of her little twin bed, she said to me “I see baby. He talkin'” and she trotted out into the living room to be a part of the burgeoning excitement for the day. A year ago she was an only child who could barely walk and hardly talk. A year ago I was a teacher with one child.
So now it’s 7:30 and the whole family are still in their pajamas. Breakfast will soon be served up and Jonathan will stir after another closing shift at Chick-Fil-A and we’ll have a normal day for a stay at home mama and two kids.
What a difference a year can make.