Five AM

The sunrise this morning was stunning. I know this, because this was one of the words my five year old daughter used to describe it as she lay in bed next to me. She had a nightmare and arrived at my bedside promptly at 5AM begging refuge underneath my covers, snuggling in between her Mama and Daddy. Once settled in, it became clear to me that she was wide awake, and I was doomed. 

I had a horrible night. I must have woken up every twenty minutes due to pain. Hand pain, back pain, neck pain, shoulder pain - you name it, it hurt. The last thing I needed was a visitor in my bed at 5AM on a day I could get away with sleeping in a bit if I needed. And boy, did I need it. 

I lay there feigning sleep as Alia quietly commented on the myriad noises coming from outside. Birds of all sorts, squirrels chasing each other and chattering away, one neighbor leaving for work, then another, after they moved their recycling bins to the curb. 

Then there was the sunrise, which, I was told, you can't look directly at once the sun is above the horizon. Dark purpley orangey reds gave way to light bluey yellowy oranges. There were no rainbows this time. Not like the time she and Coren watched the sun rise at the end of a storm and saw not only a glorious sky, but a beautiful double rainbow as well. Just a sunrise. Glorious. Stunning. Sensational. She got out all her biggest, most fabulous adjectives, the sunrise was so spectacular. 

I couldn't help but open my eyes, roll over, and take a peek. I do have to admit that the little bit that I could see was quite impressive, and well worth the minimal effort. And the snuggling was quite nice. Quite a lot better than sleep, actually. I could have just told Alia to go back to bed and resumed my slumber, but I would have missed the best sunrise ever. Was it the most beautiful sunrise I've ever seen? Probably not. But the company and the love are where the real beauty lay.

These precious moments with our children add beauty and joy to our lives if we just let them.