Sunday, November 3, 2013

When seven is six

I joked with the kids, "This weekend we gain an extra hour. I don't want my extra hour spent listening to you guys pick and fight. I'd prefer to spend it sleeping."

Shane and I changed the main level clocks last night. We didn't change the ones in our bedroom, putting that off till morning.

Erin came to my side of the bed where my clock read seven o'clock.

"Mommy, it's seven o'clock," she whispered.

"No, it's really six something. We didn't change the clocks yet," I began to explain.

She stood there looking sleepy and wanting breakfast. So I got up.

We went downstairs and I asked, "Do you want to cuddle on the couch for a few minutes?"

So we did. She fit like a little bird in the nest of my arms. Her hair, a messy mop. Her baby blanket, in her arms. I sat on the couch holding her, and looked out to the view from the French doors to a wood-line horizon, lit spectacular.

When seven is six, you can watch the sun rise. Thankful for a loving, peaceful start--and, for me, a better way to spend an hour gained than sleeping it away.

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