I have never been a morning person. Sleep has always been one of the greatest joys in my life. I could do it all day, if anyone would let me. Getting up early was always something I considered to be a travesty, an abomination. Not everyone feels this way.
My son, it seems, is a morning person. He rarely sleeps past 9am, and when he wakes I am bathed in the glow of his smiles and coos. Even I, the Ultimate Sleeper-In, cannot help but feel the day's possibilities wash over me in a burst of light and happiness when I see my son's bright and shining face each morning. He inspires me to greet the day with renewed hope and optimism.
Some mornings, I just do not want to wake up. I hear Lander moving around in his bassinet (or more often, next to me in the bed) and I want to just roll over, put the pillows over my head, and continue to snore. But something always compels me to open up my eyes and gaze upon him, and I'm always glad I did. My son's first smile of the day is always his brightest, as if he is purposefully giving me a reason to wake up and love life.
I will always be grateful to my little boy for giving me a new perspective on the joys of waking up. His happy face is my most potent inspiration.