Who's the boss? I'll give you a hint, it ain't Tony Danza.

My dad always says that Koen is like a little Bluebird in the morning
because he is so alert and cheerful.
I would say that is a pretty accurate description,
if Bluebirds are bossy drill sergeants.

Every morning my youngest son calls out to me from his crib.
I'll be dreaming lovely dreams about plates of french fries or Bo DuKe
when a small demanding voice pulls me out of my slumber yelling

"Mama, pillow!"

This means that Koen wants me to fetch him from his crib
and bring him onto my pillow with me.
This is a last ditch effort for me to grab
a few more minutes of sleep before we get up for the day.
I stumble to him and he demands "Pillow" the moment that he sees me.

I am a slow starter in the morning and my poor sleep deprived brain
needs at least 15 minutes of gazing into space before I can function.
So, onto my pillow Koen and I go while my groggy brain tries to wake up.
We settle in and I always think that we are going to drift off into sleep, then it happens.
He will notice the light on the alarm clock
that usually says some ungodly hour, like, 5:45 am.

Now, Koen has a very far reaching vocabulary
and I should know because from the moment he notices the light on my clock
until my brain starts functioning, he runs through almost his entire lexicon.

Here is how the first 15 minutes of my day unfolds with Koen on my pillow.

"Clock, mama, oh light!"
"Light on , mama?"
"Mama, (grabbing my hand) light on."

I stumble out of bed as he dashes into the hallway.

"Read, mama."
(Pulling my hand into his room)
"Light on, read."
"Night night moon, read."

I turn on the light as he grabs his book
and we both plop onto the rocking chair as I yawn
and flip on the reading lamp.

"Move, mama"
"Sit, read, night night moon."

He scoots off my lap and pulls me out of the chair
then puts up his arms for to put him in the chair to read Goodnight Moon.
I do so and then curl up in a ball on the floor.

"No, mama, sit"
He wants me to sit up while he reads the book in the chair.
I sit up and stare into space while he flips through the book.
For a brief moment I think that I might get
to drift off into la la land
when all of a sudden I hear...

"Food, eat, wet."

This means he is hungry and also needs a diaper change.
We change his diaper while I wipe the slobber off my chin
and the whole time he is yelling
"FOOD, EAT!"

I follow him in a daze as he scampers into the living room.
"Juice, mama."
"Food, eat!"

I put him in his booster seat and go to get him breakfast.

"Cereal, mama."
"JUICE!"
"EAT!!!"

I can't move fast enough.
I kind of want to cry.
Finally, I give him his juice and breakfast.
I sit and yawn and scratch my head.

"Tank ew, mama."
Which in bossy 22 month old language means

"Thank you, mom."

He is totally the boss of me for the first 15 minutes of the day.
I'm just too sleepy to defend myself.

I need a sleepcation
where babies aren't allowed
and there is no alarm clock to be found.