New Mornings

My mornings are different these days, but good.

I wake at six, pour a strong cup of coffee, and start making lunches. Then I quietly make my way upstairs to gently wake the little sleepers, feeling horrible as I pull them from their dreams when it is still dark outside. I help them dress as they are half blind from sleep. The boy has given up on sharing a bathroom with two girls, so he heads downstairs as soon as he stumbles out of bed, sounding much like I assume an elephant would, pounding heavily on each stair. I leave the girls to primp and clean, meet Chris in the kitchen, and feed the cat. I finish packing up the backpacks while they eat. Three kids and a cat munching loudly or staring sleepily absent minded so that I have to poke them a little and point to food. As they finish, they grab backpacks and shoes. I grab keys and the coffee that I have yet to finish and make the short drive to school. I give kisses and goodbyes and they are gone. As I get home, Steven is leaving. After a good-bye kiss, I begin my morning of silence.

I get my cereal bowl and head to the cool patio. It's still and breezy. The cat curls up at my feet. The kids gone. The husband gone. The neighbors gone. It's silent except for the chatter of the birds. Before I go to start errands and chores, I close my eyes and soak it in. It's lovely.

This morning a butterfly landed by my toes. A blue butterfly.

This is my how my morning goes now. Different but good.