Monday's

My morning reluctantly started t 6:30 today. I am baby sitting for a family that is brand new to the area; the Lopes. The Mother, Amanda is essentially a single mom with her husband being deployed to Kuwait for the next 6 months. Two nights a week, I stay at their house because Amanda is a nurse and works the night shift at the hospital. I rolled out of bed, and made that noise that you make when your day demands too much of you. I slumped down the hall to A.J.'s room. He requested that I wake him early so that he could work on a report for school. He is one of the most studious 10 year olds I have ever met. I then walk downstairs and remember that the Lopes do not have a coffee pot. -- tragic. I whimper at the fact that I now have to get through this morning caffeine free. I check my e-mail, and walk back upstairs to wake up Ana, the youngest. Her chocolate brown eyes open lazily as she practically cooed "good morning, Miss Alexa." Her tender disposition distracts my need for coffee. Next comes breakfast: one waffle, not too toasted, butter only, and either chocolate milk or V8 Splash... it is a V8 Splash kind of morning, Ana decides. Next is what Ana likes to refer to as "wash-up." I braid her hair waste length hair, struggling to get past the massive knots, she brushes her teeth, and makes faces in the mirror when I tug too tightly. Thankfully an outfit for school had already been picked out the night before. Next comes picking out shoes -- no small feat for a fashion savvy 6 year old. She picks hot pink jelly's with sparkles. "Miss Alexa, my legs are ashy. I need lotion." "Right", I respond. I lather her up and head back down stairs to get lunches started, when it dawns on me: A.J... I call for him to hurry down stairs and eat something. The bus comes in 20 minutes. I search the pantry with a blank stare. I catch Ana watching me with scrutiny. She hesitates, but then says: "sandwich, chips, apple for A.J., apple sauce for me." I smile softly at her as a way of saying: "Thank you. So much." How she is so intuitive to my needs, I do not know. I pause, thinking about how much credit we don't give children. Just then, Amanda comes though the door, smiling, hardly looking as if she had worked all night. I literally sigh with relief. How single mothers, whether temporarily or permanently, do this routine on a daily basis is beyond me. Hats off to you, Mamma's.