There’s something special about the time I wake up to the time that my toddler wakes up. It’s morning and it’s quiet. i can think about the day. I can sip my coffee in peace without worrying about it getting knocked over. I can read or blog and take time for myself. I’m becoming accustomed to waking up early and my morning routine is mostly the same. I get up, make a cup of coffee and while that’s brewing I take the dogs out to pee. I come in, feed the dogs and then i sit. I relax. For a while it’s just the sound of the dogs eating, the sound of my typing but it’s quiet. I can think-and then I hear it: the cry. The one thing that shatters this beautiful moment to myself. I get up and put my coffee down where it will sit until I forget that I ever had a warm cup in the first place. There’s diapers and breakfast and messy faces and kisses for daddy as he leaves for work. And then I glance over and I see my abandoned cup of coffee and I stare at it for a few seconds. Should I warm it up? Nah, I’ll try again tomorrow.