“Mommy, do you want some orange juice?”

I crack one eye open and squint blearily at the small figure beside my bed.

“We don’t have any.”

“But mommy we made some, would you like to try a glass of orange juice.”

“Sure honey, leave it on the bureau for me.”

I drift back to sleep for 5, maybe 10 minutes.

“Mommy, mommy, are you going to drink your orange juice now?”

Once more I squint and sure enough, there is a purple plastic cup sitting there with some kind of liquid in it.

“Okay, I’m getting up. I’ll drink it before I shower.”


I hear running footsteps disappear down the hall and then a voice, “She said she was gonna drink it before she showers.”

I roll out of bed, eying the glass suspiciously. It’s sticky. But it smells like oranges. I take a cautious sip and then quickly swallow the rest. It’s good. Apparently while I sleep, my children teach themselves how to make fresh squeezed orange juice. (They halved the oranges with a table knife since the sharp knives are off limits. How adorable.) Maybe if I sleep long enough they’ll figure out how to make dinner.

The Boy emerges from the bathroom. His mouth twitches as he struggles to hold back a grin, the sides of his cheeks dimple. “Mommy, while daddy was brushing my teeth in the bathroom I made a bunch of stinky farts.”

He allows himself to break into a smile now, but I love to watch the struggle on his face. It is a new thing, this attempt to keep a straight face while telling a story. I wonder why he’s now aware of the need to dissemble sometimes. Why does he try so hard to keep his emotions from showing. Why do they do that? Did I teach him? It makes me a bit sad.

The Baby stirs in the stroller where she’s fallen asleep. I pick her up to carry her to bed. She snuggles into my shoulder and goes back to sleep almost instantly. She feels so light. On the way past the bathroom I stop for a while and look at her in the mirror. I try to memorize the way her small body is molded to my shoulder, the softness of her sleeping face, the way she feels and smells. I try to experience it all, right now, to be nowhere but here, this moment, holding my sleeping child and feeling her belly rise and fall against my chest.

all content © Carrien Blue



  1. Wow you make mornings sound so nice, nothing like the jarring, what the heck happened feeling that we have over here.

  2. What I’m wondering is what your kitchen looked like after their little juicing experiment! So sweet, though, despite any mess. Sounds like a great morning!

  3. I love these little snapshots of your life.

  4. Wow you make mornings sound so nice, nothing like the jarring, what the heck happened feeling that we have over here.