The Coffee Whisperer

It starts at a little before 6am. Daily. My one year old, who prefers sleeping in my bed over her crib, is sitting next to me, high-fiving my face with one hand and signing for milk with the other. Sparse sleep habits have trained my body to depend heavily on caffeine. And so, I hear the whisper in my head... "I need coffee...".

I coax Lakeland back to sleep for 15 minutes, and then the sequence repeats itself...tiny hands slapping my sleepy face awake, signing for milk, and that whisper.

I finally give up on the notion that Lakeland is going to go back to sleep, and rise at around 7am.

My first priority is simple. Make coffee. Make coffee right now.

I slog to the kitchen, a babbling baby on my heels, and that's when my maniacal behavior begins. I see the coffee pot, but it's beyond my reach, blocked by the stack of clean pots and pans that have air-dried overnight. So I put away the dishes, and notice that the dishwasher needs to be emptied as well. Might as well get everything put away in one kitchen-cleaning swoop. And once the dishwasher is open, and empty, I might as well load any lingering dishes from the day before. And wipe down the counters. And chip the dried food off of the highchair. And sweep up the stepped on dust particles that used to be cheerios.

OK. Time to make coffee.

Oh, wait. Actually, I need to change LL first, because she's been hauling around a 10 pound diaper. So I lead her to her nursery, looking longingly over my shoulder at the coffee pot. The empty coffee pot.

Once LL's diaper has been peeled off and replaced, I notice that her vicious talons have returned, as they do every 4 days it seems, and she is in serious need of a nail clipping. And in a sing-song voice, I tell her it's time for her morning manicure. So off we go to the bathroom to clip both finger and toe nails, and, since we are in grooming mode, brush our teeth.

It's been almost an hour, and the whisper has become louder and more urgent. "Coffee. Coffee. NEED COFFEE."

And though I have every intention of turning towards the kitchen, a stray pile of dirty clothes catches my eye, and I feel a powerful pull toward them. It will only take a second. Then, I realize that in that pile is my only pair of jeans, and they have smashed avocado and hummus ground into them...I mean more than the standard amount of ground-in food, which I would happily and willingly sport. And I need to wear those jeans today. And so, off we go, downstairs to start a load of laundry. And there is already a load in both the washer and the dryer. Of course. So we end up downstairs for 15 minutes, me frantically folding and LL nabbing and unfolding, both of us working (against each other) as quickly as possible.

Finally, it's time. Coffee time. Happy dance!

Back in the kitchen, Lakeland finds and inhales all of the cheerios on the floor that I missed on my first swipe through. She's obviously hungry, and I need to feed her. And again, the coffee is on the back burner. Well, actually, no burner at all.

I get LL all set up in her highchair, and throw some non-floor cheerios on her tray to buy me a few minutes to forage for something decent for her to eat. I inadvertently find whatever is going to create a giant mess, pretty much every morning, and start feeding this ravenous creature, food flinging everywhere. Which means a full on bath is in order after breakfast, not to mention yet another wipe down of the kitchen.

And then it's nap time. Hers. Not mine. And I need to start working, so I turn my computer on and head back to the nursery to put the baby down for her nap. Once she's down, it's around 9am, and I've deprived my body, for three hours, of its only basic need thus far in the day. It's not craving sleep or food or drink...hell, I haven't even peed yet. Just coffee. Simple, beautiful, aromatic, dark, wonderful coffee.

And finally, I make a pot and the whispering is quieted. Until tomorrow...