Cold weather makes me want to sleep. It doesn't help that my room is colder than the rest of my house. It causes me to burrow deeper into my pillows, curled in a ball with the covers up to my chin.
It figures my child would be just like me in this regard.
She doesn't want to wake up in the mornings. She turns away from my voice, and shoves her head under a sea of blankets and stuffed animals. Sometimes she pulls the I-am-gonna-fake-you-out-and-pretend-I-can't-hear-you tactic. It's amazing she can keep a straight face at the silly things I whisper through her crazy curly hair.
"Did you know it snowed last night?"
"School is cancelled."
"Pull my finger."
Or, she wakes up immediately, barely cracking one eye open. She gives the best mean look, shoots fire through those long eyelashes.
"5 more minutes, Mom."
"Go away, Mama."
It takes all I have sometimes not to crawl back into bed with her, curl my body around hers, and breathe her in.
She's growing so fast; I can barely lift her anymore. She rarely calls me Mama in her silly little way. I am Mom or Mother already. I look at her and I not only see the chubby face of my favorite toddler, but I see the gorgeous teen she will become. It is both breathtaking and heart wrenching at the same time.
I'm waiting for a snow day to come, so I can curl up with her and sleep late (probably only 30 extra minutes, if I know her), while she still fits in the curve of my body perfectly.