My mornings start relatively early.  With the blare of my alarm.  A cloud of confused thought as I fall out of a dream.  The stretching of muscles and the cool soft fabric of my sheets on my toes as I reach with them for a part of the bed my skin hasn’t warmed.

Oh and the talking, so much talking, which is more effective for thwarting my attempts to curl back up, pressing my face into my pillow to slip back into dreamland.

The talking doesn’t stop so I roll out of bed searching for clothing to wear just long enough to get the day going.  Usually yesterday’s shirt and jeans are close at hand as I pull them on still tired, still confused but smiling because a memory catches me.  Also, the talker has moved into another room to start her day.  That helps.

Up and dressed I drift about my morning, making breakfast, coffee, packing lunch.  Setting out clothing, braiding hair, uttering reminders about brushing teeth and tying shoes until in one big last flurry of activity I usher K out the front door and out into the world.

And today?  This morning?  That world was surrounded by blue skies and lit by bright rays of sun.  Even as cold wind pressed against me freezing my ears and whipping straight through my leather jacket, I could feel the sun warming my dark hair, kissing my face and bringing a smile to my lips.

I put my sunglasses on and reach to take my daughter’s hand as we start down the steps of our house when suddenly my moment of bliss with the unexpected February sunshine is shaken as my daughter tugs on my hand and asks quietly “Mama, do you think there is any chance, at all, that it might rain today?  I’d really like to use my new umbrella.”

I shook my head slowly and hugged her.  As much as I was loving the warmth of the sun and the feeling of scrunching up my face to hold the bright light out of my eyes, I wished in that moment that the sky would open up just for her so she could skip to school happy, dry and safe under the protection of her new pink polka dot umbrella.