I have never been much of a morning person, but with newborn baby, everything changes. Now we are up at 7am regularly to greet the day and on rare occasions it is just him and I. I am beginning to enjoy the morning ritual we have when the house is quiet and I am not hurried, but can sit and observe the different sights and sounds.
As I type, the coffee maker sounds as if she is moaning and groaning with each cup she brews, finally releasing a long tired sigh at the end of her task. The house is filled with the aroma of the last of the Thanksgiving blend of the season and I shall be sad to see go.
The light is so soft shining through the window where my son quietly sits looking out. I love the way the red hue in his hair is so much brighter in this light.
I would love to continue to write about my quiet morning with my son, but he is beginning to cry and my daughter has come downstairs to fill the quiet with sounds of the television and complaints about the lack of "good" cereal in this house. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.
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