This morning was rough.
Little man woke up at 5 am... you know... just for shits and giggles.
I managed to get him down for another hour before breaking down and bringing him to bed with us.
I pretty much hope (on a regular basis no less) that when I bring Rhett into our bed that he will actually sleep for the next 3 consecutive hours but he usually starts playing with my hair, body slamming his father, and baby babbling to the extreme.
One day....
I have faith.
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After Chad left and Rhett's breakfast, I was looking forward to my cranberry spritzer (mineral water with 100% cranberry juice.... delish!)
Because I like to buy the organic cranberry juice, I have to shake the bottle because all the lovely, milky pulp settles on the bottom.
A few shakes does the job.
Unfortunately, today, the lid was ever so slightly loose and cranberry juice went all over my white kitchen... and my dog... and my son.
It looked like Rhett had suffered a serious head injury and he kept grabbing his soaking wet hair and looking up at me. I assume he was trying to make sense of what just happened.
It was horrible.
Nothing like starting your morning with a sticky, burgundy baby.
I love giving bathies before I've even had my coffee.
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I don't know how it's possible that one man can make such a mess.
You see, Chad likes to perpetually play hide & seek every morning with his uniform.
I've never met a person who systematically takes off one article of clothing in each and every room in a house.
I dread the sound of Chad's alarm clock on my days off because even when I pretend to be sleeping, my husband will wake me up by asking me where various pieces of his uniform are.
I've gotten so good at Chad's scavenger hunt that I make mental notes each day of where ______________ is....
"Have you seen my boots?"
"basement"
"Hey, do you know where my ID is?"
"silver tray by the phone"
"I'm missing my name tag."
"Good God, top drawer in the black dresser, right side."
Every morning.
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Anyways, I'm pretty sure at this point you're wondering where this is all going.
It's going here...
I'm so very thankful to have a baby that wakes up every morning and wants to play, dance, and love on his parents.
I'm thankful that I'm able to get out of bed each morning and take care of my son.
I'm thankful for my cranberry spritzer... but more so for our full, crowded cupboards.
I'm thankful for the house I have to clean... the warmth it provides.... the family it shelters.
I'm thankful that my husband is.... well... my husband.
I'm thankful that he, too, is able to get up every morning, go to work, and do a job that truly makes a difference.
I'm thankful that it's him that annoys me.
And that he loves me.
And that I love him.
My heart is FULL of thanks.
Happy (belated) Thanksgiving.
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One more thing.
I'm thankful for you.
Somehow, someway, you found yourself at the doorstep of my cyber home.
I am glad that you deemed my little space important enough of your time.
Thank you for stopping by & please....
visit again.
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