Our daily routine goes something like the following:

* Devon’s alarm rings

* after four rings (sometimes only two), I elbow Devon and plead that he stop the auditory torture

* we go back to sleep

* the alarm rings again (damn you)

* now I push and shove
(did I mention this is BEFORE 5:00 AM?)

* Devon gets out of bed

* tripping over stuff spewed across the floor, Devon arrives at the bathroom door, turning on the glaring lights and noisily opening and closing the door – multiple times…

* as the ritual continues in the bathroom, I briefly drift back to sleep

* minutes later, the noise ensues, Devon rattles around the room with a flashlight to find his pants, shoes, keys, phone, ipod, wallet, etc. that are never all in the same (or right) place

* pretending to sneak out of the room, he opens and closes the bedroom door and marches down the hallway
(the next part of his morning is a secret, involving email-checking, coffee-making, lunch-preparing, and other odd tasks)

* eventually I hear him waking Claire through the baby monitor, randomly picking out her clothes and combing her hair

* they then parade down the hallway for mommie good-byes

* Claire rattles the door, sometimes managing to open it herself

* the light from the hallway pours in the room

* all is well when she runs to the side of the bed and throws her arms around me

* I smile

* kisses mama

* "Bye-bye mama"

* wait, more kisses

* wait, more hugs

* "Claire, are you going to daycare today?"

* "yeah"

* "Claire, are you going to be a good girl today?"

* "yeah"

* "Claire, are you going to learn about the days of the week today?"

* "Yeah"

* "Claire, what day is it?"
* muffled in my shoulder’s embrace:  "it’s Tuesday mama"

* I look up at Devon

* "Did she just say that?"

* I try to shake off the delirium

* Devon looks just as confused

* Claire finishes her hug and trots off to get her milk from the kitchen

* "Bye-bye, Claire"

* "Bye-bye, mama"

* "Bye-bye, pippy" (puppy)

* "Let’s go daddy!"

* I blink and they are out the door.