Noah does not handle change well. Even the slightest shift to the routine can and will throw him off resulting in epic tantrums and flailing fists all before 7:15 am. Tuesday was just such a day. Things were 'off' and when told it was time to go and brush his teeth to leave for school, he shrieked, cried and ran to hide behind the train table which is located in front of the bay window. (Doesn't everyone keep their Thomas gear in the living room? No? Just me? Very well then, move along.) As I bent down to pick him up from the turkey fetal position, I happened to look up and through the top of the plantation shutters saw the sunrise.
It was a gorgeous sunrise, streaks of pink, blue and lavender stretching ladder-like across the sky. As I picked him up to haul his stubborn ass upstairs I remarked, "Wow, that's a beautiful sunrise!"
"Can I see?"
"Sure buddy" (hoisted him up to look)
"...Oh pretty! Who did that, Mommy?"
"Thank you God!"
Thank you God indeed.