posted Tuesday April 22nd, 2014
This morning Sophie stumbled into the kitchen and announced — half awake but smiling — that there are only four more Mondays left in the school year.
I looked at the clock and I wanted to cry.
Not only because of my worries about junior high, and my mushy feelings about her current school — both well-documented (ad nauseum, perhaps) here on Girl in a Party Hat. It’s because I’m feeling sentimental about our mornings together.
Most weekdays, someone’s alarm goes off a few minutes before 6, or I roll over a little later and holler at everyone to get up. Everyone but Sophie. While Annabelle’s carpool leaves at 7, Sophie doesn’t have to be out of the house till 8:45. School is a few blocks away, and unless it’s a really difficult morning, we’ve perfected the art of the quick drop-off. The last bell rings at 9.
This morning, when I glanced at the time, it was still just 6:40. Two full hours till we had to be anywhere. Plenty of time to relax over coffee (me) and cinnamon toast (Sophie), even accounting for the arrival of the physical therapist at 8 — which gives me a full half hour to get ready by myself (no one talking to me while I shower — heaven!). Time for a few rounds of Go Fish, several wardrobe changes, an episode of Peppa Pig, even time to write a blog post. (And some mornings, let’s be honest, time to head back to bed for a while.)
And time to make brownies. I don’t always indulge such a messy request, but when Sophie asked this morning, I didn’t hesitate. She got out the bowl and the scissors, read the directions on the box, stirred in the yogurt, and we had a teaching moment over the fact that you lick the spoon after you’ve filled the pan with batter, not before.
Sure, it’s the kind of thing we could do at night, but we never do. We’re both too tired by then. Right now the day is young, the air is cool, and I’m not quite ready to fall onto the couch and close my eyes. Ray and I split the after-school duties, but even with work time at a premium, over the years I’ve started kicking him out the door in the morning, in favor of alone time with Sophie. (He does grab a few mornings, too, and I know he loves them.) Soon, that will end and we’ll all be out of the house by 7.
As I write this, Sophie is sitting on the floor in front of the oven, waiting for the brownies. In a few minutes, they’ll come out with plenty of time to cool before we cut them for her lunch box.
A luxury I’m trying not to take for granted.