I look forward to my weekday mornings these days. You see, my grandchildren attend a grade school that is right across the street from my house and my 3 year old granddaughter’s preschool is just blocks from where I teach. Soooo, since my daughter has to be to work much earlier than I do, I have the unique opportunity to see the girls each morning.
We bond over breakfast, homework and relationships. Breakfast could be oatmeal, toaster strudels, muffins, cereal or hot chocolate. The 3 year insists on oatmeal in her “pretty” bowl with her matching spoon and V8 fruit juice. No other juice will do and so I dread the day that I run out and don’t have a spare. The 5th grader needs help with just a few problems in math that she “forgot” to do the night before. The 3rd grader chatters on about being the star student and all the special privileges that entails.
I refill drinks, watch silly dances, listen to stories and nod understandingly when being told of some injustice that has happened to one of them. I don’t remember having this much fun or patience when my own girls were young. However, I think to myself, I’m already showered, dressed and not stressed.
I remember back to what it was like when I was a young mother, trying to get myself ready while racing around finding shoes, brushing hair and breaking up bickering, I realize why I didn’t. I shake my head and leave my reverie.
Because, all too soon, it’s time to go, and out the door we fly. We’re ready to start our day with full tummies and warm hearts and minds.