Friday, April 5, 2013

The Mornings of my Motherhood

Raise your hand if you are a morning person.

You people scare me. 

Really, morning people are like a different species from me.  They are able to wake up to their alarm without cursing and several are able to pull off this feat without even wanting to curse.  They spring from their bed and are able to launch right into productivity, however that manifests itself.  For many, it is spent in time with the Lord in the Word.  For others, it is spent on a treadmill or out hitting the pavement.  Others are able to use the wee hours to get in a good chunk of work before the rest of the world (i.e. people like me) have even begun to think about stumbling out from under the warm covers.

Long story short, morning people are amazing.

In partnership with the newly instituted bedtime, I have been attempting to get up earlier in the morning to try to tap in to this undeveloped reservoir of time.  My results have been somewhat.....varied.

I could write all about the mornings that have started with the birds chirping as the sun streams in my bedroom window while I sip my freshly brewed coffee and merrily sing while I gather the first load of laundry as I simultaneously memorize scripture.

But I would be lying.  And really, that's a lot less fun than the reality of how mornings roll around here. 

Morning #1 - Screaming.

I wish I could say I have become desensitized to the screaming, but at the end of the day - or rather at the beginning of the day - screaming is still screaming.  Most often, it is some kind of disagreement that launches between Isaiah and Micah that winds up in a shouting match before they've even gone potty.  On these mornings, I usually pull the covers up over my head and pretend to be sleeping.

Morning #2 - Waking up to the sound of the dog puking
Because I love you, I will spare you a photo of this one.  I think the heading kind of speaks for itself, but there really is little as disheartening as emerging from your slumber to hear that guttural hacking and gagging sound and knowing without a shadow of a doubt that the deed is taking place on a carpet somewhere because, for some unexplained reason, the dog never ever pukes on the wood floor.  That would just be too easy.

Morning #3 - The Alarm going off at 4:30 AM.

One morning a week, I set my alarm for the unholy time of 4:30 and I actually get up.  I brush my teeth through bleary eyes and pin the hair out of my face before squeezing into a sports bra and lacing up my gym shoes.  Then I eat a banana or hard-boiled egg and fill up my water bottle and get in the van.  I drive to a Crossfit workout.  At 5:00.  In the morning.  On purpose.  When it's over, I drag my busted body back home and stand in the hot shower for as long as possible, wondering what kind of craziness has come over me to choose to do this.  Then my husband hands me a cup of coffee and the world makes sense again.

Morning #3 - The Bigs dressing up as Obi Wan Kenobi and the baby sucking on a tube of toothpaste.

Micah wrapped this blanket around his head one time and suddenly dressing up as the legendary Jedi master became "the thing."  There are times now when I don't even get so much as a "good morning!" before one of them is bringing me the blanket or the costume and demanding I turn them into Obi Wan.  As for the toothpaste tube, I've got nothing.

Morning #4 - Poop Problems
Yesterday morning, Micah walked into my bedroom carrying his PJ pants and undies in his hand.  His sleeves were wet.  In his little three year old voice he lisped, "I wash my hands Mommy. I go poopy and I clean it up all by myself! I wipe my butt and clean up the poop on the floor too! Toilet paper all gone now.  Can I have have pancakes for breakfast?"

Which brings me seamlessly to the final morning....

Morning #5 - Nakedness

As any mother of boys will tell you, there is always seems to be some level of nudity taking place.  In my house, it is far more likely that my middle child will emerge from his bedroom or the bathroom with his bottom exposed than clothed.  In fact, there was a morning this week where he did start the day still wearing his PJ pants and undies, but the first words I spoke to him were, "Get your hand out of your butt!!!"

So yeah.  Mornings are not really my jam, but I can't help but smile when I go back and think about all the crazy things that happen around here.  There is going to be a day coming in the not so distant future when I will long for my kids to come streaking into my bedroom in the morning, focused on getting in as much cuddle time with their Mommy as possible before breakfast.  Even if undies are apparently optional, I wouldn't trade that time for 10 more minutes of sleep.  I love those little goons way too much.

Are your mornings as crazy as mine?  Please say they are so I can feel like I don't live in a loony bin.

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