dear silly girl,
you fell asleep on my chest this morning for the first time since you were a baby.
aunt jennifer’s alarm clock in the living room went off at 6 this morning and jager was asleep on the couch. i was dreaming that a dog was howling and crying, and then suddenly woke up to realize that a dog was indeed howling and crying in the house. he hates her alarm clock. it’s one of those that beeps and then slowly gets louder and louder. i sent her a threatening text message.
so i’ve been up since 6 a.m. on a sunday because once i’m awake, i’m awake.
i made some coffee and grabbed myself a bowl of frosted mini wheats. i got my school book, the Story, my computer, and my phone all situated on the recliner, planning to get stuff done.
the clock struck 6:36 and in the living room you came. so sweet in your my little pony pajamas, smiling and rubbing your eyes.
you are an angel when you first wake up.
i don’t know what exactly woke you up, but something did. i grabbed you a cup of chocolate milk and some cheese toast (on request) and loaded your favorite little cartoon on hulu. you watched it for a while before asking if you could watch nightmare before christmas, which is a recurring movie you like to watch when you wake up for some reason. i’ve heard you lay in bed in the morning and sing, this is halloween all by yourself. we Smith girls have a weird year-long fascination with holidays.
you stayed up for as long as you could. you even tried waking daddy up at 8:30, much to his dismay.
can we go tell daddy “rise and shine,” mama? you asked. then ran off to do just that before i could answer.
i convinced you to come back in the living room with me. you asked if we could watch nightmare again, and i knew the end was coming.
we were sitting on opposite ends of the couch. i was reading about the atomic bomb and you were watching your movie. then you started kicking the covers off and trying to pick up my laptop.
whatcha doin’, honey?
coming down there with you.
you crawled on top of my chest and laid your head down. i pulled the laptop up and closed my book and my eyes. i tried to drift off with you, but couldn’t.
so i just laid there instead, soaking it in.
i know that moments like these are limited. you’re getting so big and it won’t be long before curling up on mama isn’t even an option.
i finally had to get up to go to the bathroom since i had spent the first few hours of the morning guzzling coffee and tea. oh, how i hated to move. i would have stayed right there all morning until you woke up again.
i rolled you onto the couch and covered you up, and i felt my heart swell to a chest-bursting size.
oh, how i love you.
how i wish i could freeze time and we could just stay right here always.