Before I was a mom I enjoyed a hot, fresh cup of coffee every morning. We use an Aeropress. Josh hand-presses our coffee before we start the day. Everyone has their routine, that is ours.
We still start every day with a steaming hot cup of coffee. I sit down and think to myself how delicious and hot that first sip is, savoring the second.
And then play time happens. We pull out every one of our toys and after we’ve played with and touched all of them – we head to the books. Lottie opens each one, eats most of them and then brings her favorite over to me and puts it in my lap. This is the one that we will read right before we put her down for her nap in the morning. While we are playing my coffee is sitting on the table, getting cold. But I love my cold cup of coffee because it means that I was too busy on the floor playing with my baby girl all morning.
I put Lottie down for her nap and go to reheat my coffee, I take another long, hot delicious sip of my coffee, enjoying that second sip of goodness.
And then I remember I need to throw a load of laundry in and fold the laundry from 2 weeks ago, get dinner in the crock pot…OK actually I still need to figure out what’s for dinner tonight, and I need to finish up 2 blog posts and respond to my client emails.
I’ve usually reheated my coffee mug at least 4 times by 11 am.
I love drinking it cold because it means I’m cooking her lunch as she sits in her high chair and her head is turned looking at me grunting because it took me 3 minutes too long to get the food to the table. I quickly finish preparing her sweet potatoes, green beans and apple for lunch and set it in front of her.
I drink it cold because I am in awe sitting next to her as she feeds herself. She’s only 9 months old and is still learning to get the food from the table to her mouth. She palms the food and smashes it into her face, I don’t think she could get any messier, but I love watching her. Every day I see her learning, getting better and more interested in food and I’m too enthralled with her to remember my coffee cup on the kitchen island getting cold.
She finishes lunch and I do a full wipe down as baby led weaning means our meals are especially messy. I give her a few minutes to play while I clean up lunch and then put her down for her second nap—how did it already get to be 1 pm?
At this point my first cup of coffee is beyond cold and has reached old status, so I toss out whatever is left in my cup and make a second cup for an afternoon caffeine kick.
I take that first sip for the second time today and savor the dark roast we picked to drink.
And then I get a call from a fellow mom friend who wants to catch up (it’s been weeks). So I leave my coffee on the counter as I begin to multi-task as I talk. I pick up the toys from that morning’s play time and finish putting away the dishes from the dishwasher and wipe down the counters all while talking about the new developmental milestones of our babies and our next vacation plans.
We hang up the phone and you guessed it – I microwave my coffee once again. I take a long swig, this time larger than usual because based on the time I figure Lottie Rose will be up soon and I need to be ready for her.
Minutes later, I hear her loud and piercing cry coming from her crib where I put her down for her second nap which felt like only minutes ago. Its 30 minutes earlier than I expected her to wake up so I know something is wrong. As I walk into the room my nose knows. I could smell that poop a mile away. I pick her up, holding her as far away as possible, I walk to the changing table and hold my breath in hopes of not passing out from the smell. Once I get her diaper off she gives me the happiest smile that screams, “Thank you Mama! I knew you would make it better.”
We play on the changing table for a while and then she crawls around her room playing with a stacking toy with no luck at stacking them. She looks over at me asking me to help, so I do. For the next 15 minutes I stack up the toys and she knocks them down, followed by a joyous laugh that fills my heart to its brim. I continue to stack the toys knowing this game has no end, merely to listen to her laugh which penetrates this mama’s soul.
I walk back into the kitchen where my lone coffee cup sits, half full and utterly cold. I throw back the rest in one large gulp, loving every minute of my cold cup of coffee.
Learning to love cold coffee is a right of passage as a new mom. I love drinking it cold because it means I am engaging with my baby girl. I’m not lounging on the couch watching her play, I’m on the floor beside her, outside on the swing set and climbing under the bed as my coffee sits on the table getting cold.