On Valentine’s day Ax got a whole bag of various chocolate treats from his teacher and classmates. I told him he could have one each day, which is one more than I’d like him to have but I’m attempting moderation rather than some kind of absolute denial that triggers instant rebellion and a life of downwardly-spiraling chocolate addiction. So one per day. He negotiated that the one per day would be available upon waking. Each evening since then he’s placed the next morning’s treat by his gummy vitamins so he can get it first thing in the morning.
Wake ups are different since this morning treat thing began. Before, the alarm would go off and we’d snooze for two or three rounds, then I’d get up and do my coffee-making thing and eventually come get him and snuggle him to wake up, which he’d do slowly, languorously, like a fuzzy little cozy kitten stuck to the bed. Now, the second the alarm goes off he pops up and yells, “Get up mom! Come on!”
I find myself, like this morning, groaning and whining, “Why are you yelling at me?” to which he responds, “Come on!!!” I drag myself out of bed, he gets himself his treat, and we both have our morning hits of chocolate and coffee, respectively, before going about our early morning business. For him, that means snuggling up in our big bean bag chair under a fluffy blanket while staring out my office window at the sky as it goes from dark to light. For me, it means more coffee drinking while staring at him and tapping out one of these semi-daily thought pieces. A treat is a wonderful way to start the day.