Jericho's typical wake-up time in the morning is 8 a.m. He's content to sit in his bed and read (I usually leave about 3 small books in there at night) til about 8:30, until he starts asking, "Mommy, where are you?" I get up, change him and get him situated with breakfast, and normally I sit at the table with him to have my own breakfast. But lately it's been....different. The first thing I do when I walk into the living room is open the blinds and the kitchen window. I LOVE that fresh, cool morning air, the cloudless blue sky and the sound of the Italian neighbor's vacuum cleaner.
Wait. What?
Yeah. Our neighbors in the building next door clean every morning. I can hear them out on their balconies beating the rugs and sweeping the floors. Some days they're downstairs in the walkway, washing and sweeping the dirt from their porches. They lay out blankets, carpets, and bed linens over the balcony edges to air out. From what I can see inside (no, I'm not a stalker) their houses look spotless.
Ten years ago I would've thought this early-morning activity was insane. And that's only if I were awake at the ungodly hour of 8 a.m. Now, I want a presentable home, one with clean, fresh-smelling carpets, glistening dishes and floors that say, "Why yes, you can eat off me." Those ideals are just a tad out of my reach with a 2-year-old, but with each passing day I try a little harder to get as much done as possible before Jericho gets down from breakfast to play. It's almost like I'm expecting Martha Stewart to walk in at any given moment to perform a home inspection.
I'm not quite sure what this little change is, but I like it.
No comments:
Post a Comment