We've previously chronicled Elliot's bedtime routine, so we though it only appropriate to chronicle his morning routine.
Mornings begins around 5.30 a.m. Elliot wakes up famished. We feed him a bottle and he usually sleeps until around 6.30, at which time he lets us know he wants out of the crib. Most often, we transfer Elliot to our bed and try to catch some more Zs with Elliot sleeping between us. This is when what I like to call the "ballet of power" begins.
Around 7, I invariably feel a little hand outlining the contours of my face until it reaches me ear. When found, the ear is latched onto — hard. It stays latched until the little hand ventures across the bed to find Demaree's ear. After ear manipulation has outlasted its usefulness, Elliot props himself up. He examines our faces to determine whether we're awake (at this point, we're faking sleep so he'll leave us alone), then either grabs and pulls Demaree's hair or lays his cheek on Demaree's cheek. (If he's really tired, his head will descend too quickly, causing quite a loud head-butt.) If Demaree doesn't react, Elliot abandons her and crawls across my face in an effort to reach my wallet, keys, and bic pen sitting on my night stand. It's about now I just can't take it anymore, so I remove Elliot from my face, put him on the leather recliner, turn the TV on Noggin, and attempt further repose. Lazy Town pacifies the child for ten to fifteen minutes, at which time he disembarks the recliner, approaches me, and slaps me (lovingly, I'm sure) on the face. Realizing the ballet has entered its ultimate crescendo and power has inexorably shifted to Elliot, I acquiesce and arise.
And somehow, we can't wait for the next one to come along.