I'm always in the kitchen doing a million things on weekday mornings but I'd hear her footsteps some days, like rustling leaves against the floorboards. As she reaches the end of the hallway, she'd stop and wait, look in on me and say, "Good morning, mama."
I'm always startled by Miranda's use of "mama" recently. Copying her sister's way of calling me now. It might go back to "Mommy" soon enough but I sort of hope not.
Some days she wakes first and some days the little one wakes first. And when Alexa does, I'm not allowed to let her down until I have held her and walked around for at least 15 minutes.
And then when she's having her breakfast at her little table and watching a show on TV, she'd come every 5 minutes and hug and kiss my thigh, go back to what she's doing and repeat this until she's done with breakfast. She'll come to me and tell me she's "inish" and tip-toe to place her bowl on the kitchen benchtop.
Even though the morning routine is often harried, these little things don't go unnoticed. I miss them as soon as I'm on the train and all alone. No more stories, no more hand tugging or heart tugging -- until 9 hours later.