5:19 am: Wake-up to get the baby who is wanting to nurse.
5:21 am: Think that I hear some noise downstairs, but assume it's probably my overactive imagination.
5:23 am: Hear another noise downstairs which sounds like silverware and wonder why anyone would choose to steal our silverware over our 2002 computer or our garage sale couches...
5:25 am: Derek rolls over; I make eye contact with his alarmingly large, scared eyes and whisper loudly, "There's someone in our house downstairs." (He always wakes up like I've told him there's a killer in the house, so his expression is no change from the normal.)
5:25:35seconds am: Derek jumps out of bed and tiptoes--as quietly as a man just startled from a deep sleep would--to our door where he cranes his neck to listen for the next noise.
5:25:36seconds am: The next noise.
5:25:39seconds am: Derek walks out our bedroom door without a backward glance at his wife and baby and goes to save his family.
5:25:43seconds am: Derek finds Ryanna in the kitchen making breakfast to surprise all of us.
5:26 am: Derek tells me that Ryanna had planned to surprise us this morning. Mission accomplished.
5:26:15seconds am: I request spouse to tell me what the plan of surprise is. He answers that she's making us breakfast.
5:27 am: I hear another noise and deposit sleeping child in his room and venture downstairs with total fear--a six year old loose in a kitchen--any mom knows what I'm talking about here.
5:27:15 seconds am: Ryanna yells, "Surprise!" And I am. And what do I find? An English muffin with peanut butter and honey on it for me to eat. She's made Derek a peanut butter and honey sandwich already in its ziploc bag and sitting on the corner of the counter ready for him to go to work and she's in process of making something for Owen to eat. I tell her she's very sweet and I'm going to go back to bed for a little bit, so she can finish up.
5:30 am: Ryanna, "Mom, where are the eggs?" Which phrase causes me to get out of bed again and tell her that she absolutely is not allowed to use eggs by herself and definitely don't turn on the stove or oven. She's a smart girl, but let's not be crazy here.
5:40 am: I descend the stairs to find a present wrapped for me and one for Derek--which causes Owen to whine about his lack of a present--and the same note for each of us which reads, "Thank you for taking care of me." (No misspelled words either--a child after my own heart.) So, what were the presents? Well, Derek received the book The Ordways by William Humphrey and for me? Slander: Liberal Lies About the American Right by Ann Coulter. Both books we already owned, but have not yet read.
Isn't she a sweet girl? How thoughtful of her to not just make breakfast for each of us, but to give us gifts and write us notes? What a lucky mom I am.