Mornings are not meant for Mamas

Like most working moms, I wrestle with my decision to go back to work part time. As a teacher, my alarm goes off at an obscene hour 5:30 a.m. and as I muddle through the morning in a house that hums with the rise and fall of sleeping boys it takes every ounce of energy to stop me from crawling back into bed. Most mornings I don't even get to see the G man, only the sound of his voice calling out, "Dada pick you up" as I'm pouring my cup of coffee and heading out the door. From the car window, I often watch with tenderness as a dazed Dada crawls into the G man's big boy bed for an early morning story and a snuggle. This morning routine is sacred, for it is the time that is utterly and completely their own in the making. In this world, boys get to pick out their own outfits and creativity is encouraged in this department. "It's clash day,"Dada announces, "So stripes and polka dots are the new black." And its all about function not fashion for these guys. The skeleton sweat pants, yes, we can wear them everyday!
Next its breakfast which is full contact. Waffles dripping with "syriup" that the G man pours himself and pours and pours and pours or..it could be Weetabix and freshly cut up strawberries if the little lad requests. And of course the ever popular Flapjack Friday a tradition Dada started when the G man expressed interest. On this special day, Dada makes thin swedish pancakes, especially small for little hands and always glistening with bulging-eyed blackberries.
Tunes... must have tunes to get the morning started.. but forget the kid music crap. This where the real music lessons begin. Dada introduces the G to his favorites Beck, Billy Bragg and the Blues.
Its not until I come home from work that I realize just what has transpired in my absence, only the evidence is left of the amazing time they had together. Some days its in the form of syrup oozing down the chair. Other days its an elaborate obstacle course set up complete with tunnel and a series of forts made from couch pillows and blankets. Maybe its a pile of books or puzzle they tried out... And so while most days I still long to join them, my boys snuggling under the covers, I get up knowing that mornings are not meant for Mamas that there is much work to be done here without me.