This morning Marshall was gone to the hospital to round.
Lydia crawled into my bed somewhere around 7 and snuggled sleepily until 9.
Around 9:20 Carter came bounding into my room, pouncing on my bed.
(He, like my friend Courtney, wakes up with an astonishing amount of energy.)
Sometime shortly thereafter I heard Asa calling out from his crib.
He didn’t want to leave his lovies(blankets) behind, so they joined us for breakfast.
And after a few minutes of sitting in our chairs like proper little people, Lydia asked if we could eat under the table.
Ya know, why not?
So I found myself under the table, sharing my nutella french toast with my littles.
And although I’m sure there are some of you thinking “tsk, tsk, tsk…she let her children eat on the floor,”
(Note: On the floor, not off the floor. We still used plates.)
I’m glad we did it.
If I hadn’t let them eat on the floor, we wouldn’t have played peek-a-boo by hiding behind the table legs.
And there wouldn’t have been nearly as many giggles and smiles.
Maybe we should eat on the floor more often.