I heard little footsteps and his bedroom door open and slam shut. "He's awake already," I mumbled and looked at the clock: 6:24am. Ellie had risen in a loud scream not 20 minutes prior, I changed her diaper, John made her a bottle and back to bed the three of us went. It was snuggly and cozy, with me in the middle of these two lovelies. We all drifted off in the comfort of each others arms. I was not ready to leave this cocoon of warmth when Luke awoke. I dreaded it in fact. He has fully embraced the independence that his big-boy bed gives him. I heard him stand there, I could feel his eyes looking in our room but my eyes were so heavy with sleep that I couldn't open them as Ellie breathed deeply in the crook of my arm.
He shuffled to the living room and I heard him sigh and yawn. I pictured him just sitting in the middle of the floor waking up with his sleepy-head-hair sticking up every which way. I must have drifted off again, the house stayed quiet. Maybe he fell asleep on the living room floor? Some time went by and Ellie began to stir, the clock now read 7:45. Wow, I thought, we got a nice extra hour of sleep. I heard some tinkering in the bathroom, a little boy struggling to get his sleeper off. Oh dear. I handed off Ellie to John and pounced to the bathroom.
There he sat, completely naked on the potty and so proud of himself. "I pooped mama. I fushed it too!" "Luke,Why didn't you come get mom or dad? We would have helped you buddy."
"You two, you, um, you wake yourself!"
Oh sweet boy, thank you for letting us sleep and for your perfect, unassisted aim at the toilet.