It's about 6:00 a.m., and I open my eyes to find Ian staring at me. I'm thinking, "No way is it time to get up," and I scoop him up into bed between Paul and myself. A few minutes of him wiggling, tossing and turning, kicking his legs, flinging his arms and socking me in the nose, he finally settles in and falls asleep. Sleep, blissful sleep. I'm hoping for another hour of the coveted stuff.
"Aaaahhhh. Aaaahhh, aaaahh, aahhh, aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh." Laurel tells us she's awake. The clock says it's after seven, I should go ahead and get up. Oh, but it's so warm and cozy under the covers. My cold nose and cheeks tell me there's a slight chill in the room. I really don't want to leave the comfort of my bed. I stay put and rationalize that maybe, just maybe, Laurel will go back to sleep.
"Aaaaaaah. Aaaaahhh, aaaahhhh, aahh, aaahh, aahh, AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Alright, so she's not going back to sleep. Paul isn't moving, but Ian bolts upright. "Mommy, baby's awake."
I don't move, I don't say a word. I hold the covers tight around me and ignore everything outside my cozy space.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! AAHH, AAHH, AAHH, AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Laurel's screams are now continuous. Boy, she sounds pissed off someone's not there to do her bidding.
Barely heard over the crying coming from the other room, Ian simply states, "Mommy, baby's awake."
Paul and I continue being still and quiet. Concerned, Ian repeats his observation, "Mommy, baby's awake," and begins climbing his way out of the layers of sheets, pillows and covers. I feel him try to go over my legs, and he soon falls on top of me. I still refuse to move or say a thing. Paul now has to be awake, but is not letting on.
Ian wiggles his way over me and onto the floor. Somewhat disoriented due to the abrupt wake up call, he shuffles his way out our room and sweetly calls out, "Laurel, I'm coming. I'm coming baby."
Ian flips the light switch on in Laurel's room. "Hi, baby!" he cheerfully sings out, and her screams turn into giggles.