every morning begins with A. A is for Ava where all things begin.
the war cry of a 9 month old girl sounds out amongst pillows and sheets, followed by a small, round, beaming face pressed into mine. oh hello, you’re up, are you?
there is no waiting. 9 month olds do not wait. they do not understand the concept. up means up. now.
up also means crawling, standing, chattering, laughing, bouncing, prodding. it does not mean gentle, relaxed, slow, stretch or pause. it does not mean take your time mummy.
morning always starts with the secret (sometimes it is not a secret) hope for just a little more sleep. this never happens. sleep is an annoying necessity to this 9 month old.
we do the following: change nappy, shower, bath, get dressed, make breakfast, have tea, do the dishes (sometimes), hoover (sometimes), play, and by this point the 9 month old is probably ready to sleep again. the 28 year old is not. she is too awake to even think about it.
i have tea. morning tea helps everything. it is my glass of red wine, my cigarette, my expensive shoes. tea is my drug of choice, and it really does help the morning in.
i am still not a morning person, but i do not hate this way of waking up. your daughter’s smile, so close her gummy grin is bigger than whatever you were just dreaming. get up now, it says, i want to play.