I love this time of morning when everyone in the house is still asleep; I get up at 5:00 specifically so I have this time, an hour or so, before everyone else is up, before I am required to be a mom and a wife and all the other assorted roles I take on during the day. Right this moment, this little slice of time, I am just me.
Today I am happy because my coffee beans got here yesterday. I messed up my order and we had to buy Folgers for the interim. While it provided me with my steaming hot cup of caffeine, it was simply a cup of truck stop coffee, utilitarian. I like my coffee to be an experience every single morning, love the ritual of grinding the beans and pouring in the water, love to sit here and listen to the drip as it fills the carafe and smell it as it brews. The the first sip, and for a moment everything is right with the world. No matter how many years I have drunk coffee, this hasn’t changed.
Now the baby has awakened, insistent upon her first sip of the day. We have our own morning nursing ritual, her eyes tightly screwed up to avoid the light as I change her and her grunts becoming more frantic the longer I take. As soon as she latches on, her whole body relaxes and for this moment, everything is right in her world.