Before my yoga class this morning, I started up the stairs to wake my children before I left. Paul prefers having them more awake when he gets them up. :) But not more than four steps up I stopped. I wanted to take their pictures while they slept. I hadn't done that since they were infants, save once on a road trip when all three kids were sleping in the van with their mouths open.
I doubled back to grab the camera and tiptoed across the tan shag carpet to Joey's bed. I fixed the frame on him and clicked. Blurry. I tried again. Nice and clear but off center. I tried a couple more times and by the time I'd clicked about five or six, Joey moves for the first time.
"Maawwm!" he says with his eyes closed. "I said I didn't want my picture taken while I'm sleeping!" His eyes are still closed.
I turn off the camera and clamber on the soft bed. "Oh. I'm sorry. I thought you said you wanted me to." I tucked the covers around him more and snuggle-kissed his cheek and head and forehead. He smiles and giggles. His eyes flutter open, one delayed with morning stickiness.
"I said if I was half on the bed and half off."
We'd had a conversation the day before about this very thing because yesterdays morning wake up showed their special warm snuggliness peeping out from above the tangled covers. And oh how I wanted a picture then. I remembered a previous wake up when my son re-situated himself under the warmth after having put on his clean shirt.
"I love blankets, Mom," he sighed.
Today I touch his wild hair and the dog flops down on Joey's feet. On the bed. She is hard to scold because she is love and part of our pack. Joey also loves her in his bed because he is lonely at night. At seven years old, I consider buying a king size bed so we can institute the family bed. Even at this late age.
In Aubrey's room I change her soothing sleep CD to a quasi-rock band she likes and I snap a picture. No movement. I get closer and center the shot right on her beautiful angelic face. Angel Baby. At nine. I snap again.
Dead pan. "I was a wake after the first one." She rolls over and stretches at the ceiling. "The flash woke me," she yawned.
And so my morning starts. I love my children. They are inspiring reincarnations of souls I've loved over and over. What bliss. I breathe in gratitude.