Morning Milkshake

Mornings around here are pretty peaceful—dreamy, really. When Dru’s long eyelashes flutter open he wiggles a little, then rubs his eyes and sits up, still a little wobbly. I have watched this scene so many times from the video monitor. A book catches his eye and for (I’m not exaggerating) over an hour he will sit there and thoughtfully turn each page. We sleep-in like teenagers, him and I, which is magical. But probably more magical is waking up just in time to watch his morning routine. What goes on in that messy, blonde bedhead? If I interrupt his reading time, asking him if I can get him out to go eat some breakfast, he will insist, “Dru staying in, Mommy.” Sometimes I will go pick up the house, or get breakfast started, but often times I will sit there, in the rocking chair beside his bed. I quietly watch him sleepily read his book. His room is peaceful and somehow filled with memories, though we haven’t lived here long. His dresser has scuffs and scrapes that let you see the old black dresser that lies beneath the paint coat that his dad and I primed and painted together. I remember painting it with David. We were both so hopeful. We talked about the usual new-parent things—What will he look like? Who will he be like? What will we be like? I glance over at him and (like usual) get emotional just looking at his sweet face. He has a red frame that hangs above his bed. I have looked at it now and again, but on this particular morning for some reason it really gets to me. Before Dru was born I had big plans for his room. I (or my nesting instincts) wanted one of those soft, picturesque nurseries. Before I had a chance to really put all of my ideas and inspiration into his room, he was born in an emergency delivery. When we brought him home he had a crib and a painted dresser, which was still in the garage, missing a second coat. Everything was so overwhelming back then. I was crying almost hourly. I had a new baby, that was “abnormal” on every test and that I had to leave at the hospital everyday. Standing there in his room, a month after he was born was crushing. The bare walls felt like a reminder of how much I had missed out on. Numb from crying, I got out my old textbooks. I ripped out pages of DNA. In a real crafty moment, I pulled out a glue stick and arranged the ripped pages together. I cut out letters to read, “I love every little piece of you.” It’s one of those projects that I should have taken my time on. I threw it together without measuring things out, or waiting for things to dry. I put it into its red frame, drove a nail into the wall and hung it there in a furry. Then I stood back and took it in.

framed picture

Hanging it on the wall completed something in me. Corny, I know. But it gave me closure. I couldn’t go back and complete the perfect nursery, have the perfect birth, or have my biggest concern be postnatal weight loss. Instead, I could move on, slap together an imperfect, but lovely life and take steps toward healing the wound symbolized by those bare walls.

This morning as Dru wakes to read his books, I glance around the room and study that red frame. Though imperfect, it’s now my favorite thing in his room.

His walls are no longer bare.

Milkshake 2

After he wraps up his morning books, he typically requests a “milkshake and snuggle”. I thought I’d let you in on our morning routine and share the best morning milkshake!


  1. by Laurel on August 13, 2016  12:41 am Reply

    Beautiful Lauren and I love the recipe it has some of my favorite ingredients which I never thought of putting together. I will have to try it for sure!

    • by Lauren Parker on August 14, 2016  10:01 pm Reply

      Thanks so much for always reading, I hope you love it!

  2. by Katie Merrill on August 13, 2016  1:30 am Reply

    Beautifully put. I love how you put those difficult and complicated feelings into words.

    • by Lauren Parker on August 14, 2016  10:01 pm Reply

      You are the sweetest. That means so much to me.

  3. by Michelle Jensen on August 13, 2016  8:42 pm Reply

    Oh your morning routine sounds heavenly! Thanks for sharing your thoughts and feelings of that red frame. It brought me to tears. Whenever I read what you write, I can feel your deep love for Dru and it brings me to tears every time. Sure love you guys and miss you lots.

    • by Lauren Parker on August 14, 2016  7:40 pm Reply

      You are the best! I love that you always come to read. We miss you!!

  4. by Kelsey Cook on September 10, 2016  5:41 am Reply

    Lauren. You are such an amazing writer. I can just hear you saying all of this! You are such a great example to me, I want to be like you when I grow up!

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