The Perfect, Regular Old Morning

Do you ever have those mornings where it seems special ordered? Nothing special days, just regular old days. But...those regular old days that are the perfect regular old days.

Clare woke up early this morning (I mean really early) - check.
I laid in bed until well after time to get up to go running - check.
Finally felt guilty enough to get out of bed - check.
Got up to get the sweet crying baby - check.
Fell in love with her all over again today too, only more deeply - check.

What did I do? I decided to get up to go running anyway and take Clare with me in the jog stroller. What a morning. It was abso-freaking-lutely beautiful this morning. The temperature was perfect and the two girls were off doing what we do best, just hanging out. We left Mason in the bed, grabbed a cup and some cheerios for her to nibble on before breakfast and away we flew.

When I say this morning was beautiful, I mean it was beautiful. There was a low-lying mist, the sun was out, the birds were singing, the temperature was absolutely perfect, rabbits were hopping around, frogs were making their frog noises in the pond behind our neighborhood, and the best part?? Clare and I were just chirping along with the birds, talking our mommy/daughter language that only we understand while she nibbled here and there on cheerios and said "weeeee" periodically. Her little curls just bounced in the draft of the air as we ran forward. I ran past Andy's nursery, where they have the most beautiful garden area next to the creek, and she loved seeing the sunflowers and getting sprayed a little by the sprinkler. I ran through the warm sun into the shade of a nearby neighborhood and she watched the passing yards for birds ("What do the birds say Clare?" Teet Teet through her pacifier) . I felt lighter than normal and was having fun running, which isn't as often as it used to be since I'm in the "alone time" of the morning.

It was far too short of a run this morning. I think I could have kept on going for another mile or two, but it was late and I was certain she was going to want real breakfast sooner or later so we packed it in and headed home. I ran her as fast as I could up the neighborhood hill (she LOVES this) and then we were home. Just for a little added bonus, we let Daddy sleep a little bit longer and we made breakfast together. I cut her bananas and she ate every one of them while the pancakes cooked (Ca-u-kes as she says in her southern drawl), then she ate all of her cakes too. We talked and chirped some more before we tip-toed in to surprise Daddy with a late wake up call.

See, it was the perfect, regular old morning.