They say revenge is best served cold, but mine came with a side of baby spit-up and toddler tantrums. When my husband claimed I “do nothing all day,” I decided to give him the relaxing day at home he thought I enjoyed. I disappeared for 12 hours, and what happened next was something he wasn’t expecting.
At 5:30 a.m., most people are asleep. But for me, it’s when my day begins.
It’s not by choice. It’s because Lily, my eight-month-old human alarm clock, has decided that’s when the world should wake up.
A little girl sitting in her chair | Source: Pexels
By the time I’ve changed her diaper, prepared her bottle, and settled her in the bouncer, it’s usually time for four-year-old Noah to stumble into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and asking for chocolate chip pancakes.
“Not today, buddy,” I tell him gently, sliding a bowl of oatmeal with banana slices in front of him. “How about we save those for the weekend?”
Noah pouts but accepts the compromise as I balance Lily on my hip while unloading the dishwasher with my free hand.
