Mornings

We are not morning people.  We don't spring from the bed, bright-eyed and ready for a new day.  We crawl, stagger and drag ourselves from beneath the covers, our eyes half-shut as we reluctantly face the morning.

After I hit the snooze button at least once, I begrudgingly head to the kitchen to make the most important meal of the day... coffee.  The smell of the dark, oily beans invigorates me, pulls me from my fog.  

I open the curtains in our bedroom and wake the hubby, his eyes puffy from sleep.  I tiptoe into the boy's room,  and make my first attempt at rousing him from his slumber.  I head back to the kitchen to make breakfast.  

I hear the water turn on in the bathroom and know that my hubby has made it out of bed.  He climbs into the shower in the hopes that the downpour of hot water will wash all the sleepiness away.  

My son stays buried under the covers as long as possible.  When he finally rises, he wraps himself in a mountain of blankets and makes his way to the table.  We talk while he eats and I notice how much his sleep-filled face mirrors that of his father.  They are so much alike.

I pour myself a cup of piping hot coffee and enjoy the first sip.  The warm liquid gives me the burst of energy that I so desperately need.

And so begins each day.

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I am linking up with Just Write today.  Stop by Heather's blog to read other posts or to add your own.