"Saturday Mornings with Shannie"
First I should start by saying Saturday mornings when Connor was little, were amazing. He'd walk in the bedroom and whisper "Mom, I'm awake, can I watch a show." I would hand him the remote that I had strategically placed on my bedside table with preprogrammed Disney channel. He'd settle in on the couch in the living room, push the little red button and sit tight. An hour later he'd return and ask for some breakfast and which point I'd get out of bed and begin to function like an adult.
Shannie... is another story.
6am: I feel a knock (or 3) on my forehead...
Shannie: (in a fake whisper) "MOM - I'm awake!"
Shannie: (still whispering) "can I snuggle"
She disappears, I doze
She reappears, and I feel a painful lump on my shoulder.
Me: "What is that?"
Shannie: "It's baby elmo (the one with the hard plastic head) he wanted to sleep with you.
Shannie: thump, thump (3 book go tumbling from her arms) drop drop (4 more stuffed animals sounds like they are hurled at the wall) "can I snuggle?"
Me: ok. (moves over)
Shannie: Laying on top of my head... scratching my arm and singing "lullaby and good night..."(quietly)
Me: "Shannie would you like to watch a show?"
Shannie: "No, i'm ok."
Me: "ummm ok."
Shannie: (3 minutes later, just as I am dozing back off with a girl on my head) "Mom- I need a drink of water"
Me: (wishing we had replaced the faucets in the house like we've been discussing for a year) ok... in just a minute"
Shannie: "BUT A MINUTE IS A LONG TIME"
Me: "ok..." (I begrudgingly get out of bed and get her a drink of water)
Meanwhile Shannie has snuggled into my nice warm bed under the covers, snoring.
As I contemplate what to do about this new development (you see only the part with no covers is available in MY bed, and this 6 month pregnant girl should not pick up her 50 lb daughter and
throw her across the room place her gently in her own bed).
The dog's 6th sense knows that his link to the overthrow of that darn locked door to the outside world and food, is up and moving. So the whinging and howling begin. As I pray that he doesn't wake up Grumpy Dwarf (that is not pretty) I sprint down the stairs and open the front door so I didn't have to put on shoes. The dog goes chasing a squirrel, I go chasing the dog, it's 19 degrees and I'm still not wearing shoes.
I wrangle the dog back into the house, give up on my bed and start the coffee.
Shannie: (hearing the commotion and most likely the abundance of unkind words) appears in the kitchen. "Why are you being so loud? the sun's not even up!"
Me: *sigh, I know*