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Saturday, November 7, 2009

Candy-Colored Carpet

My mornings are usually a little bit chaos with a dash of crazy, but things really seem to get off to the wrong start when the boys wake me up first. I really need to force myself to get out of bed when I hear Ryan leave for work, but up until recently, my youngest was still waking at least once every night wanting a bottle or a diaper. Camden (almost three years) and Cavan (16 months) wake up between 6:30 and 7:30 every morning. I can hear Cavan in his crib "whoo, whooing" and laughing to himself. He is a morning person, and he can't wait to be set free so he can get at the toys. Camden usually takes longer to come around in the mornings. He always wakes me to tell me he wants warm milk and cartoons, please. He still wakes up in my room in the mornings. Sometime in the middle of every night he darts into our bedroom in a mild panic. He no longer pitter-patters, but runs down the hall from his room to ours. I believe he wakes from bad dreams. This makes my heart heavy, and I always scoop him up and place him between Ryan and me.

Yesterday morning started like most others, and I awakened to the pleasant sound of Cavan laughing in his crib in the room down the hall. I changed his diaper, got his milk, and then sent him off to work destroying my living room. Camden woke and gave him the same service. Later in the morning, after my second cup of coffee, I thought I might be able to sneak off for a shower. The boys were playing peek-a-boo in my clothes closet, a walk-in closet in the master bath. They sounded like they were having fun and not getting in to trouble, so I jumped in the shower. I could still hear them playing close by. I proceeded to shampoo thinking the worst they could do in the closet was pull the clothes off the hanger. Oh foolish mother, have you learned nothing? The closet became quiet; I knew it was a bad omen. I wrapped a towel around me and peeked in the closet. Oh, dear Lord. Oh, no. My closet floor was covered with hundreds of teeny, tiny rainbow-colored sprinkles (the kind used for baking). My boys, bless them, were licking the candied treats right from the carpet, thus moistening the dyes so the all the colors of the rainbow could settle into their new home on the floor of my closet. "How," I wondered, "did they acquire the candied sprinkles?" I shooed them from the closet and headed to the kitchen where I saw a chair pushed up next to the counter. Obviously Cam had spotted the sprinkles and set his mind on obtaining them. From now on, I vowed, I will force myself to get up with Ryan so I can dress and drink a cup of coffee before my children rise. Then I will be ready for more adventures in diaperland. Bring it on, boys!

This post written by Michelle Jarrell

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