Content. Happy. A PDG Morning.

It’s ten am, and I’m posting now because I want to remember every moment of this morning, and I want to post how good this morning was before it gets lost in whatever else happens today. It wasn’t like it was a super-amazing-wonderful exciting morning. It isn’t like we won the lottery or anything. I don’t buy tickets anyway. Slightly and insignificantly reduces my chances of having that kind of morning.

It was just a pretty darned good (PDG) morning.

Cameron slept in until after seven. Small wonder, as he was awake long past ten last night. He’s been resisting bedtime lately, and he we had a three hour nap yesterday afternoon. It’s time to ease him back to a decent (eight pm) bedtime. But anyway, he slept in. Which meant that I got to sleep in – I figured he’d do this, so set my alarm later than usual. I braced myself when I woke up for a difficult morning. It usually is, when we sleep in, because we still ‘have’ to get out the door at the same time.

Cameron woke with a shriek, then a howled “Mama! Mommy! Mamaaaaa!” Ohno, I thought. It’s going to be one of those mornings.

Knowing we had to get going quickly, I didn’t bring him to snuggle in my bed. We sat on the couch and cuddled until he was over whatever fright he’d had, and was ready to get moving.

Cameron didn’t fight me over anything. He found crackers I’d left out last night (snacking while posting), and munched on those. Okay, not the best breakfast, but whole grain at least! Besides, he ate his own weight in fruit and veggies yesterday. We were dressed and out the door at a reasonable time. No fights over getting dressed, brushing my hair (I let him help), brushing teeth, which shoes, who holds the umbrella. I felt like we’d forgotten to do something as I locked the door behind us.

As usual, we walked past the fire hall, and veered in for a close-up look through the garage doors. There was a fire fighter there, who opened the doors for a chat. They’re really amazing at being so welcoming whenever we’re there. Then Cameron asked so politely, “In firehall mommy? Please?” So, we stepped in. The firefighter opened a truck door so Cameron could see the driver’s seat. “Down please mommy? In truck? Cameron in truck? Please?” I ask you, who can resist a frickin’ two year old saying please? WOOO! So we reviewed the rule: when Mommy says it’s time to go, it’s time to go. I got an okay, and let him loose. Cameron got to sit in the engine and the Hazmat truck, and run around in the back of the Hazmat truck, his favourite one to be in. The ladder truck is his fave to see, though. A call came in then, and the place was suddenly swarming with firefighters – “Time to go, Cameron. The firefighters have to do their work. Piggyback time!” I carry him in an ergo on my back still. No fighting. Wow. Up, in, bye-bye and thank you and we were out before the trucks went out. He waved bye-bye as they drove past, saying, “Firefighters put out fire,” then babbled about hoses and ladder trucks on our walk.

Next stop, coffee shop. Cameron very nicely asked for a different ‘treat’ than our usual. “No, no, no croissant. That. That. Please?” Apple-walnut morning glory muffin. Go figure, the kid likes it. And wow, the guy making Mommy’s latte gave Cameron a wee cup with a bit of milk in it. Still in piggyback, Cameron managed to drink it without spilling all over Mommy.

On the bus, Cameron didn’t scream or fuss or cry at all. Nope. He stood up behind me, wrapped his little arms around my neck, and while incidentally throttling me said, “Love you Mommy,” again and again. With lots of kisses. And the timing was perfect – he got to push the stop-request button on both busses.

Drop-off at daycare was a piece of cake. Big hug, big kiss, shoes off please. And off he went to the playroom in search of Roselyn, his best girl friend.


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