Early Morning Reflections
It's Saturday morning. I was awake at 5:37, making a bottle and a cup of coffee. Once upon a time, I would have been horrified at the thought of being awake that early on a Saturday morning. Part of me still rebels, hoping against all hope that I'll get a reprieve and be able to sleep in. But a larger part of me relishes these quiet moments. The moments when I am free to sit, pray, read, plan, think, and just be. When no one is shouting for me to Come.And.Wipe.My.Bottom. When the sound of children's television is absent. When the only thing I can hear is birds, waking up for the day, the light snoring of my baby, some cars on the highway (very faintly), and the sound of my own heart, faithfully beating out the rhythm of my life. I love my life, and I wouldn't trade it for another. I wouldn't trade the poo-splosions, the tantrums, the workload, the broken sleep, the inability to remember if I've showered recently, the neverending cycle of housework, the complete