Noah wanders down the stairs when he is good and ready to get up, almost always the last one to arise. I often peek in to see him slowly waking, stirring, opening his eyes to look around and then deciding he wants to stay in bed just a little longer. This is such a contrast to the way Luke shoots up out of bed every morning, completely alert. I find the difference kind of enchanting and a little telling of their personalities.
Noah comes down slowly and snuggles me for a few minutes and I take him in, knowing it's the only time I will get him to really hold still until bedtime rolls around. There's something so sweet about his warm and soft body, slowly waking up to the world. I love his bed-head and even his morning breath. I love the way that he allows himself to melt into me for just those few minutes every morning. I know this little ritual is over when he wonders aloud what breakfast will be. I then watch him slowly eat his breakfast as he asks questions about the day's agenda.
He's the middle one and lost in the mix most of the day but I can count on our little time in the morning to connect and understand one another. He's my guy.
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