I was sleeping. I’m pretty sure if I knew what a sugar plum was, it might have been dancing in my head. From somewhere out of the darkness came a distinctive knock knock knock. Given the fact that my baby monitor had just gone belly up that very night, that subtle thudding is all it took to get me sitting straight up, heart thudding, fearing the fact that my baby may have been crying in vain for hours with no result.
Reality sank in and I realized what morning it was. It was THAT morning. The one morning of the year when children rise even earlier than early. That is to say, they wait until the deepest blackest part of the morning from which coffee won’t even offer up a life saver to help a person out of. Then they bounce from bed with enough enthusiasm to leave skid marks on the walls. And then they run for the tree.
That knock knock knock meant Smoochie was out of bed. I pulled my heart back into my chest, un-Velcroed myself from within the warm confines of the blankets and poked my head out of my bedroom door.
“Merry Christmas, Smoochie.”
“Merry Christmas. Mom, I’m ready to open presents.”
“Give us a minute, and we’ll be down.”
I slid my slippers on my feet and paused long enough to fill Bonehead in on the fact that Smoochie was awake and ready for presents. I rushed downstairs, still scared Critter may have been awake for hours crying because I had no working baby monitor. As I came into the living room, I realized it was quiet. Critter was not even awake yet, but since it was 5:45 in the morning, he was due to wake up soon. I let out a deep breath of relief, realizing he had not been awake for hours crying and he was just fine.
Then the condition of the living room began to sink in. As I looked around, I realized that although Critter hadn’t been up for a while, SOMEONE sure had been.
The presents that Santa had left under the tree had all been moved (and I suspect more than once). Not only that, but each and every one had been pulled out from under the tree, looked at, and placed in a pile for the appropriate person. And counted. I have a sneaking suspicion they may also have been categorized and stacked according to size as well.
According to Smooch, all we had to do was sit down and begin opening. Of course, he being the excited 7 year old boy he is, overlooked the fact that Critter was not yet awake, then would need changing, feeding, and so on. But that’s ok, it only prolonged the Christmas morning excitement a little bit longer.
Had my baby monitor not died, I would have heard him wake up. Instead, I will wonder for the rest of my days, what time, exactly, DID he wake up?
Reality sank in and I realized what morning it was. It was THAT morning. The one morning of the year when children rise even earlier than early. That is to say, they wait until the deepest blackest part of the morning from which coffee won’t even offer up a life saver to help a person out of. Then they bounce from bed with enough enthusiasm to leave skid marks on the walls. And then they run for the tree.
That knock knock knock meant Smoochie was out of bed. I pulled my heart back into my chest, un-Velcroed myself from within the warm confines of the blankets and poked my head out of my bedroom door.
“Merry Christmas, Smoochie.”
“Merry Christmas. Mom, I’m ready to open presents.”
“Give us a minute, and we’ll be down.”
I slid my slippers on my feet and paused long enough to fill Bonehead in on the fact that Smoochie was awake and ready for presents. I rushed downstairs, still scared Critter may have been awake for hours crying because I had no working baby monitor. As I came into the living room, I realized it was quiet. Critter was not even awake yet, but since it was 5:45 in the morning, he was due to wake up soon. I let out a deep breath of relief, realizing he had not been awake for hours crying and he was just fine.
Then the condition of the living room began to sink in. As I looked around, I realized that although Critter hadn’t been up for a while, SOMEONE sure had been.
The presents that Santa had left under the tree had all been moved (and I suspect more than once). Not only that, but each and every one had been pulled out from under the tree, looked at, and placed in a pile for the appropriate person. And counted. I have a sneaking suspicion they may also have been categorized and stacked according to size as well.
According to Smooch, all we had to do was sit down and begin opening. Of course, he being the excited 7 year old boy he is, overlooked the fact that Critter was not yet awake, then would need changing, feeding, and so on. But that’s ok, it only prolonged the Christmas morning excitement a little bit longer.
Had my baby monitor not died, I would have heard him wake up. Instead, I will wonder for the rest of my days, what time, exactly, DID he wake up?
3 comments:
Why did Bonehead leave skidmarks on the wall?!? :(
My kids are 16, 13 and 10 and they still count presents.
Um...I still count presents! :)
My kids woke me up at 4 a.m. Christmas morning!! I heard them standing outside my bedroom, talking, and I suggested it might be in their best interest if they returned to bed for a bit longer. I was able to contain them for just a couple hours more!
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