My morning ritual is slow and sleepy as our six month old is still having 4am feeds.
By 7 o'clock I am awakened by a happy baby, babbling in his cot.
He looks up at me with pure delight, as I appear leaning over his cot, ready to pick him up.
We have a cuddle while I ask him if he had a nice sleep, what did he dream about, is he hungry. He answers me with squeals, laughter and 'kisses' which have become his habit. He leans in to you, open mouthed, and gives the most beautiful baby 'kisses' on your cheek.
We snuggle up in the big bed and he has his morning feed. He looks up at me, eyes shining, and holds on to my arm, or my clothes.
I cherish these moments.
I know I will miss them.
Then the day is underway. It is time for coffee and breakfast. Time to wash clothes, or wipe bottoms, or run errands, or clean the house, or play with blocks, or do one of the million things I do each day now that I get to stay at home with my baby.