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When I’m home, most of my mornings go like this: wake up around 6 and immediately begin praying the kids don’t wake up till at least 7. That isn’t currently going as planned. Around 5:30am I woke up to one of the two crying, and by the time I came to my senses, both were at level 10. I will confess, I’m not the best rocker, so my wife usually has to rock one while I hold the other, and then do her magic with the second child, all while hoping the other remains asleep. Again, this isn’t currently happening. Lawson, for the second morning in a row has woken up ready to start the day, and so when we try and bring him to bed with us, hoping our big, extremely comfortable bed will allow him to relax, we end up constantly grabbing him from crawling off the sides. I don’t recall when I became a morning person, but at some point mornings became “my time”. I literally go get breakfast while listening to ESPN’s Mike and Mike, and then return home waiting for the kids to awake for their breakfast. There’s something about being on the streets so early in the morning. It’s just you for the most part. I have a Panera about a mile from my house, so I’ll order from the house using the App, and usually I’m back home in 15 minutes. The past two mornings, I’ve spent that 15 minutes praying that Lawson fell back asleep. I’ve been wrong twice… [continued]

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