Our mornings are usually equal parts backstage at the circus and well oiled machine. Jim and I clumsily glide around each other while getting dressed, getting Willa's bottles ready, feeding the dogs... Often we get in each other's way; and because we're not really morning people, but try for the sake of each other, we do not greet each other with an enthusiastically cheery smile. However, we also don't growl at or punch each other in the gut.
This morning I was flying solo while Jim's in Chicago. It was a little lonely being able to access my sock drawer without waiting for him to leave his closet area.
Greta spent all night by the front door instead of her normal under the bed sleep spot. Arlo was happy to start out on the bed in Jim's spot, but left after I accidently threw a pillow his way. This morning Willa kept looking around corners. "Dadadadadada," she cried as I put her on her back for a diaper change. "Dad will be back tomorrow, but he'd wisk you away from playing with the shampoo bottle for a diaper change if he were here."