5:00 am Sunday morning…I’m all wrapped up in my fluffy down comforter. I am very particular on my down comforters; on a scale from 1 (providing the least amount of weight/warmth) to 5 (providing the most amount of weight/warmth), we have a 3; perfect for chilly sleeping conditions. On top of my #3 comforter I have my heavy weight wool blanket sporting all of my favorite colors and smelling like Downy. As I look out the window, I can just tell it is going to be a cold day. The sun has yet to come up, but I can hear the rain drizzling on the roof, the bright yellow leaves are falling from the trees and the wind is whisking them away to the campsite next door.
I can smell a hint of coffee and I know Greg is getting the living room, area, room or area (which ever you prefer) warmed up for everyone. A perfect way to greet the day. Until I hear ‘This Girl’ from The Kungs (not kings) blaring on our bedroom tv followed by a good strong pelt on the side of my head with the tv remote. “Sorry Mommy” followed by a kiss and a head hug from Cecilia. She shimmies under the covers and attempts to get as close to me as humanly possible.
We have tried hiding the remote at night in preparation for this exact scenario. But she is the master of finding everything. You want to hide a remote from her so she can’t have power over the TV? Good luck to you. She has a 6th sense when it comes to this stuff. It’s almost like the movie Inception, except instead of falling asleep to enter into someone’s subconscience, she is wide awake and staring right at you. If I make a mental note of the hiding place, she intercepts the thought and makes a b-line straight for the hidden item. It’s both strange and annoying. Especially at 5:00 in the morning.
I manage to pry the remote from her hands and check the volume number on the tv. “Oh wow, its only a 75…I thought it was at a 100” I think to myself. I turn it down to a 20. “Too loud” she says. “Yes CC, it is too loud. We have to be quiet and not wake up your sisters” I tell her. “Abby and Phoebe sleeping…too loud” she repeats. We lay side by side for 5 minutes and I feel myself drifting off to sleep…
45 minutes later I awake to Cecilia re-enacting a scene from her favorite movie Tangled, which was playing in the background. Unfortunately for me, she loves that frying pan scene. “Ok, I’m up” I mumble to myself. I was ready to make a day of lounging around in my pj’s, snuggled under my #3 comforter and wool blanket, watching the leaves float in the air, reading and drifting in and out of sleep. But getting hit in the head twice before 9 am leaves me feeling extremely annoyed and super hungry.
As I make my way to the bathroom, she is not far behind and requesting breakfast. “Bagel? Bagel?” she asks. When I inform her there are no more bagels she immediately says, “NO!” as if I have the power to summon the bagel Gods and make her favorite blueberry bagels appear right before her very eyes. Instead I make her cereal. As I retrieve the milk from the refrigerator, I realize it sounds like it has chunks of something floating in it. “Oh gross! How can that be? I just bought it yesterday” I thought to myself.
Someone turned our refrigerator up to a 9. It usually sits at a 6 or 7. Alas, the “chunks” I was hearing, was actually frozen milk.
All these numbers before 9 in the morning…#3 for my comforter, #75 the volume of our tv, #45 the number of minutes I had left for a snooze, #9 the unfortunate temperature of our refrigerator and getting hit in the head twice before 9 a.m. “This is too much for me to handle” I thought. “All these numbers have to mean something.” I proceeded to fix Cecilia a bowl of cereal with ice milk.
The more I thought about all the numbers, the more I was convinced it was the cosmos whispering to me, “Angie, go back to bed…you were meant to have wonderful dreams…you are not quite finished”.
At that point, I decided I needed to go back to bed. When I woke an hour later, the sun was shining, the rain had stopped and it was still cold as balls outside. “Yes, I did the right thing. I just had a successful morning do-over” I thought to myself. Right in that moment, a naked male Barbie flew through the air and hit me in the head.
The laughter of 3 little girls ensued.