True to my promise, here is another little glimpse of what life is like living with my son, Hudson. Every morning I get up early and (if the sun is shining) take my bible and a cup of coffee out side by the lake. It’s my little bit of perfect peace before the wonderful chaos begins that is Hudson’s morning.
I usually get him up around 8:00 a.m., and by then he’s jumping like a maniac in his crib while singing “No more monkeys jumping on the bed.” But it usually comes out “No mo munchies…(jump, jump)…bed!” When he’s not singing the monkey song he’s “saying hi” to whoever comes to mind: “Hi Mama! Hi Dada! Hi Pampa! Hi Dama! Hi Hudson! Hi Micah!”
His first word when I walk into his room is usually, “GARBAGE!” Yes, you read that right. Garbage. It is his favorite thing and his favorite word. Don’t ask me how it happened or why, but my son is in LOVE with all things garbage. Garbage cans, garbage trucks, garbage men. He’s especially enamored with WALL-E, the future of all garbage trucks. For some reason Hudson feels it necessary to point out the window and yell “GARBAGE!” when I walk in the room, whether the garbage cans are out or not. We stand there and talk about garbage for a few minutes before I take him out of his crib.
After a diaper change Hudson allows me to dress him only after I’ve convinced him of the merits of a particular shirt. “Look Hudson, this is your tool shirt. This shirt has tools, just like Bob the Builder. Bob fixes things. You can wear this shirt like Bob. Do you want to wear this shirt?” Or, another day it might be, “Do you want to wear the doggie shirt, Hudson? This one has a doggie on it. Woof, woof. Do you want to wear the doggie?” After I have so brilliantly convinced him to wear the “fix it” or the “woof woof” shirt, we go downstairs for breakfast.
“Befast,” as he calls it, is usually uneventful. Then we either go for a walk around the lake to see the ducks, or we go out for a run. On our typical run he begins saying “Home!” when we are as far as we can possibly be from home. It’s like I’m his sled dog and he’s yelling “mush!” Makes me run faster every time. 
When we do finally get home, I always park the jogging stroller and let Hudson run around the cull de sac ‘like mommy.’ He’s faster than you’d expect. That kid takes off like a rocket and I have to run to catch up. And he’s usually yelling, “I wunning, I wunning! Wun, wun, wun.”
The best part of the morning is when it’s time for me to take a shower. Our rooms are conjoined with a bathroom in the middle, so I close the outside doors and allow him free reign while I get ready. The other day Hudson said, “Bye momma, you shower,” as I got into the shower. One minute later he ripped open the curtain and said, “Hi, momma!” while all the cold air rushed in. I laughed, said “Hi Hudson,” and closed the shower curtain. Two minutes later, the curtain opens again. “Hi, momma. Soap! You wash.” More laughing from me, I close the curtain. Another minute passes, then I hear Hudson say, “Momma, towel!” and I say, “Yes, Hudson, mommy needs the towel after her shower.” But he’s very excited to help so he rips open the curtain again and tries to hand me the towel. The inevitable happens, the towel gets wet and Hudson gets water on his face. To this he responds, “Oh no, I wet! Wet! Wet! I towel,” and rubs his face with the towel.
By this point I am frantically trying to finish my shower before Hudson can come up with some new way to participate, and laughing so hard I’m almost crippled. Hudson keeps up his monologue the whole time. When I’m finally done he triumphantly hands me my towel and gives me the biggest, most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen on anyone. I’m clean, he’s happy, and I’ve had enough laughter to keep my endorphins at a healthy level the whole day long.
When he takes his nap at 1:30 p.m. I collapse on the couch for a well-earned afternoon of reading or writing. Who ever said being an at-home mom was boring did not live with a child like Hudson.
Too adorable. Thanks for that glimpse in to your mornings.