I don’t need an alarm clock anymore. Starting around 5:20am, I hear her chanting, “Ahhhh, dada, dah-dadada,” through the monitor. She entertains herself for 10-15 minutes, but I know to rescue her while she’s still happy, just after I’ve splashed some water on my face, gotten dressed, and turned the coffee machine on, because our little crawler (in our death trap of a house) will hardly let me do any of the above once I’ve extracted her from her crib. These days, I find her sitting upright in her crib in expectation, flapping her arms excitedly as the door to “her room” (our study) creeks open.
“She’s got blue eyes deep like the sea that roll back when she’s laughing at me…” (Plain White T’s, our cheesy-as-all-get-out morning jam…whatever works, right?)