Sweeter Than Sleep

I heard him in the bathroom, and I instinctively looked at the clock. 5:57. Seriously? Maybe he'll go back to bed. Please just go back to bed. He'll go back to bed, right?

And then Micah headed downstairs.

Crap. This isn't how I wanted to start my day.

I corralled him back up the stairs and made him get into bed with me, just to be sure that he stayed put and didn't roam again. It was still dark for crying out loud. And not even 6:00 AM. Okay, it was now, as in 6:01. And I had an hour before my alarm went off. Surely he'd go back to sleep, right? He did the other morning at 6:45. It was awesome - he slept until 7:30. He'll go back to sleep this early and we'll both get a bit more rest before we start our day.

"Ick."

Shhhh, go to sleep, Micah.

"Ick. Wa."

Micah, be quiet. Lay down and go to sleep.

"Ick. Wa. Eee."

I looked over at him to see what the heck he was talking about, and I saw him looking at the clock. 6:13. Ick, wa, eee. Six, one, three. My boy was watching the clock like flashcards flipping before him. Six, one, four. Six, one, five. After so many years of struggling with learning, I couldn't ask him to stop. Even at 6:13 in the morning when every fiber of my being just wants to sleep, I couldn't stop him. Instead I lay there listening to him reading off the numbers on the clock, telling me that we were drawing closer and closer to morning and I'd not get any more sleep. And it was very, very sweet.