My favorite time of day is my morning shower.
The kids haven’t woken, yet, Real Man is exercising, and it’s just the shower walls and me.
As I stand there, slowly waking, I think about everything and nothing. I just relax and let the moment be, because I know that the minute I emerge, it is as if some house-wide alarm clock has gone off and everyone wakes and stumbles down the stairs, looking for me and wanting to know what I can do for them at that moment.
My favorite time of day is standing in the hall as the students come in to the building.
As a parent and a teacher, every day has to be brand new.
Every kid needs a fresh start with each new day.
You need to let go of whatever happened the day before and be willing to be as excited to see them as you were on the first day you saw them.
It’s what kids of all ages need.
Some come in half-asleep, some chattering away.
Some come in with their noses in books, bumping into everyone and everything as they make their way down the hallway using every other sense but sight.
Almost all of them will say “Good Morning” with a smile, which is no small feat for a building that houses over 1,000 6th, 7th, and 8th graders.
It’s the signaling that a new day has begun and it’s full of possibility for us all.
My favorite time of day is when the monkeys all get home from school or daycare.
When I pick up Tiny Monkey, he just smiles and giggles and is so happy to see me.
There are no tearstains, no residual crying-hiccups, or anything to indicate that he’s had a tough day.
In fact, he seems to be having a delightful time at daycare, which makes me all the happier when I pick him up.
It’s like his life is just laughter and smiles all day and when I get him, we get to continue the love.
When I pick up Baby Monkey, he drops what he’s doing and runs across the room to give me a big, squeezy hug.
Then, it’s just chatter, chatter, chatter in the car, as he tells me about his day. Good stuff.
When the bus drops off Monkey in the Middle, he races for the house, and I’m just so thrilled to see him.
He gets taller every day while he’s at school, and I swear he changes in the 8 hours we are away from each other.
And, finally, when Monkey Girl comes home, she flops onto the couch next to me and I love to listen to her tell me about her day. The drama that comes with being 10. Wanting to be so big, and yet still desperately clinging to being a little girl. Makes my heart burst.
My favorite time of day is feeding Tiny Monkey before bedtime.
He snuggles in against me as he eats.
One hand wraps around my back and gently opens and closes, like he’s rubbing my back in time with my hands rubbing his arms and legs.
As I look at him, his eyes are closed, but every now and then they open, and as we make eye contact, he can’t help but smile and lose his grip on his snack.
We smile at each other, like two fools in love, until he remembers what he was doing and waggles his head around until he is back in place to resume his greedy little suckling.
I love how he falls asleep as he eats, laying perfectly still, until he is jiggled or breathed on, and then his little mouth works, chin opening a closing once, twice, three times, and then is still, as if he is trying to trick me into thinking he is awake.
I love the rise and fall of his chest as he sighs and breathes against me, and the way his hair softly falls back into place as I run my fingers through it.
I mourn the fact that the little body that once fit completely against my body now has sprouted legs that fall off of my lap. He’s supposed to be tiny…how is it possible that he is this long?
My favorite time of day is when I put Tiny Monkey in his crib.
I lean down and kiss his sweet head and watch for the rise and fall of his chest.
Then I creep into his brothers rooms and kiss their sweaty little heads and whisper “I love you,” as they sleep, so differently; Monkey in the Middle, sprawled across his bed, sideways, backwards, upside down, while Baby Monkey is under every cover he can find, no matter the temperature, and his face buried in his blue blankie.
Finally, I tip-toe to Monkey Girl’s room and no matter what time it is, my gentle kiss wakes her, and she groggily reaches out for one more hug as she whispers “Love you, Mommy,” and my life is complete.
My favorite time of day is when the house is quiet and Real Man and I get a moment to ourselves.
We snuggle up and talk and laugh and enjoy spending time with our very best friend.
Despite my best efforts, I begin to fall asleep and Real Man whispers, “Take off your glasses,” and I say “But, I’m not sleeping,” and he laughs.
Every night.
And life is good.
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