Over the past month or so, I have made the occasional effort to rise before my husband leaves for work so that I can be up and writing before the kids awake. Imagine early morning sunlight glowing in the eastern sky, a springtime symphony of fervent bird songs, a nice sturdy mug of creamy hot coffee steaming on the side table, and the quiet peacefulness of a house full of sleeping children.
The coffee and the birds have never let me down, and for that matter neither has the sun, but my kiddos don't cooperate. I get up, they get up. It is as simple as that. I can be 5 o'clock in the morning or a very tardy 7:15 am but they get up right along with me. Unfortunately, my children do not share my peaceful, idyllic vision of morning. As soon as their little eyes open they start acting like kids. I mean what the heck? Couldn't they get up and behave like adults for at least a little while? My bare feet haven't even made contact with the floor when I hear, "Momma! Momma!" That would be little Allen tuning in his mom radar to sense any movement from the target, Mom. "She's awake "(well, sort of) and moving so it must be time to ATTACK! Got get to her. I will hang here on the side of the crib and whine until she comes in and gets me. If she tries to set me down with the ridiculous expectation that I should use my own leg instead of limply resting on her hip and pointing at things I want, I will cling to her leg and scream until she gets so frazzled that she will pick me back up again."
All my children learn to pick up on my intolerance of loud noises. They seem to be as loud as possible, as early in the morning as possible in the hopes that I will crumple into a shriveled ball of raw nerves and just put on a movie for them. It may have worked once or twice...
Yesterday, miracle of miracles, I got out of bed a little after 6am and EVERYONE STAYED ASLEEP! Yes, I know it is nearly impossible to imagine, but it did happen. It went just as planned. I unplugged my laptop, ambled into the living room, placed my favorite chenille covered sofa pillow on my lap and started typing blissfully away. I lied about that part. I am so used to being interrupted and whined at that I had no idea what to write. I started typing but it was pretty useless content. Still, I figured it would be better to have a lot of poorly written sentences about nothing (that I hopefully could rework later) then to just sit staring at a blank blog entry. It was everything I hoped a morning would be, minus the inspired writing. The weather was exactly to my liking as well; a little chilly, overcast skies reminiscent of the rains of the night before and every bird within ten miles was singing it's springtime song to the morning. My husband even brought me a cup of coffee and a kiss before he left for work. Perfect. To make it even more perfect, my kiddos slept until 7:15!
Encouraged by this miraculous event, I decided to get up before the children again today. When my husband came in to kiss me goodbye at 6:30 I attempted to peel myself off the mattress without waking Allen, who was cuddling up next to me. He had awakened in the night. In my sleepy predawn zombie like state I had shuffled into his room and brought him back to our bed, where I had promptly fallen back to sleep. When Allen sleeps with us however, he snuggles into me like a baby bird cuddling for warmth into his mother's brood patch. The removal of my warm body caused him to roll over. This of course woke him up and he wasn't too happy about it either. He wouldn't stop crying unless I was holding him. I still haven't perfected the art of typing with a wiggling baby in my arms (with child number five, you would think I'd have mastered that by now). His ferverent complaining about everything brought all the other children crawling out of their beds and they brought all of their demands with them.
"What's for breakfast? Are you going to make it now? I want hot cereal. I don't want granola. Can I make an egg? I want to sit next to you. I was sitting there first..." and on and on. The whining always seems sooooo much worse when I am trying to do something of my own. Before I snapped and started yelling and whining like an overgrown child myself, I decided to abandon my plans for the morning and take care of the children instead.
That is why I am writing this now at 10am instead of 6:45am. How am I managing to do this you ask? Aren't three of my children still at home? Well, I am using technology to sedate them for me. I hate to do this. Maybe I should try getting up really early, like 4:30, but what if they all wake up then too? I could have hours of early morning whining to content with. There isn't enough coffee in this house to get me though a morning like that. Uhhhh...