Good morning! Yes, indeed.

I have a vague and fond recollection of sleeping late and waking up of my own accord. Perhaps someday I'll have a vague (and fond?) recollection of being woken up by happy children and so, to remind my future self of how it really is I record a typical spring awakening as the mother of four.

Clap! Clap! The first sound I hear in the wee hours is often Clap! Clap!. This is the sound of Lincoln's chubby hands applauding the entrance of another New England morning; specifically a New England morning because in the spring the sun is fully up by 5:30 a.m.. (I know Jared and Maren are excited to hear that as they will be here in 10 days!!!!!!but who's counting?) I admit that I have never once leapt out of bed and leaned happily into the crib to pick that little guy up. I sometimes feel more like bursting into tears; but I'm too tired; so I roll over and wait for the cooing to begin. Phase II of Lincoln's wake up ritual is a cooing cacophony; squeals, nonsense syllables, gurgles, and occasional giggles getting progressively louder while I pray for the strength to get out of bed and brush my teeth. When I do get out of bed I have to slide stealthily off our high bed and creep into the bathroom because if Linc sees me and I don't immediately greet, the cooing turns to heartbreak and that is no way to start a morning. All this baby song wakes up the next little person, Lacey Grace, who shares a bedroom with Ro and she comes prancing in (yes, prancing) and sings back. Every morning I say, "It's still very early. Why don't you try to go back to sleep or curl up with your human blankie (daddy) and rest a little while longer?" Four days out of seven she curls up with Jay for 5 minutes. Three days out of seven she insists that she wants to stay up with Lincoln and I and she does with great joy, gusto, vigor, and volume. One day out of seven she actually goes back in and lays down. Zero days out of seven she falls back to sleep.

Because Jay has been working so late I usually change Linc's diaper and we leave the room so he can rest a little while longer. Occasionally I give Linc a bottle and he falls back to sleep but the odds of him returning to baby dreamland are about the same as LG's, nil. ( I actually have never written the word nil before and haven't the foggiest how to spell it. Was that right?) And besides, what's the point, Lacey is awake and now, none of us will sleep. One morning when I told her to look at books so I could sleep just a few more minutes she did. I think she read all 12 words of the book, "No, David" before she returned and with her mouth pressed to my ear very quietly and insistently whispered, "Cock-a-doodle-doo" which, by the way, is very funny when Jay is the cockadoodle dude but less so when it's happening on my side of the bed.

If it's a school morning Topher and Ronan are very tired and beg for extra time (I actually have found that if I carry Lincoln in and put him on the bed beside each one, respectively, they wake up in a good mood because the first thing they see is a drooly, happy, little chubster who is delighted to see them) but if it's a weekend and especially if Lincoln has gone back to sleep, they spring forth from their beds instantly. Then a party begins on the bed Jay and I bought before we had children; the very high lodgepole pine canopy bed we purposely chose so the children couldn't climb in with us. We now grimly joke that we didn't buy a bed, we purchased an indoor jungle gym. What fun!

On these Saturday mornings Lacey is already snuggling with her daddy and Ronan comes and climbs in between Jay and I. He wrestles around a bit adjusting the pillows and cheerfully greets Lacey Grace in the loudest whisper possible. Very occasionally he doesn't come in but lays in bed and sings. I've never heard an actual drunken sailor singing but I think I have a pretty good idea... However, he only sings on the mornings that Lacey Grace has not woken up early and gotten out of bed. On these mornings, laying beneath him in the lower bunk, she gets a taste of her own medicine. And then they both come into our room.

Being quiet is relative. To an adult, quiet means quiet. To a child it means small segments of stillness punctuated by loud shushing, giggles and scuffling. Even talking out loud is completely acceptable to a child being quiet if what he/she has to say is important enough. "Stop touching me!", "I'm so hungry!" and "Give it to me!" are examples of important statements to a child. Other examples include "My baloney has a first name," and "O-di-lay-di-hoo!"

Topher is ten. He comes in less frequently in the early mornings. This is because he barely left our bed. When Jay works late Topher comes in and sleeps in his daddy's spot. Then when Jay gets home at 1 or 2 or 3 a.m. he herds Toph back into his own bed by way of the bathroom. Speaking of drunken people, this is a sight to see. He bobs and weaves like a champ which makes him, I believe, a drunken boxer.

Because Toph likes to stay awake late and read he is less likely than the others to come in the following morning. He is growing up. Which is why I need to record all of this; because they're all growing up and I never want to forget
The Rooster, The Coo-ster, The Sailor or The Champ and what it feels like to be their mother at 5:30 a.m..