"Good Morning, Good Morning..."

As the song from Singing in the Rain plays in the background, I wake to the sound of my sweet little bundle of joy (who is not so little anymore).  I gaze over to the clock in a morning haze and realize it says...6 o'clock! Really!?!?!  This early? Hmmm... maybe I was hearing things.  So, I turn over, pull the covers up, and the crying persists.  I guess it's time to "wakey, wakey".

It is so hard sometimes to muster the strength and energy to pull myself out of bed, or to go to him when he's woken too early from a nap.  He should be asleep!  What is this nonsense?  Then I realize he's a person too, and could quite possibly not feel well.  How frustrated would you be if you couldn't convey to a person what was wrong?

There is the verse "Children are a gift from the Lord;  They are a reward from Him." Psalm 127:3.  Sometimes, this is very hard to remember.  Like when they've thrown their food/utensils/cups on the ground for the hundredth time.  Or waking too early from a nap...did I mention that yet?

But then they do something so sweet that there is no wonder they are a gift.  He'll lay his head down on me as we dance around the living room.  Or when he crawls up behind me, into my chair to see what I'm up to and then gives me a big hug from behind.  Or when we're rolling and playing all over the floor and then suddenly in the middle of it all he grabs my face and kisses me with his big open-mouthed kisses.  He's such a sweetie.

And when they they wake you early and you stumble into their room, open the door, turn on a faint light and look at this face, you understand where your strength is coming from...God.


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