To the Mom Who Hates Mornings - My Life at the Frat House
I was born on a beautiful starry night.
I'm pretty sure my entry into the world put me at a disadvantage and set me up to despise mornings.
I'm wired that way, from birth.
In fact, I've tried at different times to pretend to like sunrises and early daylight, and it never turned out well. In high school, I was told that the best time to study was early mornings when "your mind was fresh" and "your body felt rested".
I tried this ludicrous theory for weeks prior to exams and "my mind was mush" and "my body felt wasted".
Don't even ask about my exam grades that week.
I met my husband during my senior year in high school and we were married shortly thereafter.
It didn't dawn on me until we moved in together that this was truly the happiest man on earth.
At 5 o' clock in the morning.
His sunny disposition was nearly unbearable, but in the beginning I went along with it, and we were a happy, magnificently peppy morning couple.
Yes, it was glorious.
And it was over by month two.
You guys, I do my best work after 5...PM!
I just don't believe in happy morning people, WHAT are they trying to prove?
Our marriage adjusted and survived with no casualties for many years.
And then we had kids.
I did surprisingly well through the newborn and baby years, but as they grew a little older I realized their sleep clock was broken!
BOTH of my kids refuse to wake up at normal hours -- like normal people.
In fact, they both inherited their Daddy's early riser incurable condition.
Yes, yes they did. I lucked out that way, morning-lover me.
You know those poster families who can write the book on cultivating a peaceful morning routine, with gentle, soul-nourishing activities?
I feel like every morning I wake up in a rowdy, soul-rattling fraternity house.
And it's been going on for a few years, so you think I would've acclimated by now, but again, NO.
At that unspeakably early hour, everyone here is always energetic, talking loudly, dancing, fist pumping, nerf shooting, and sometimes sporting nothing but their underwear (or diaper a short while back) and an occasional tank top (or weather appropriate Winter sweater, sans pants).
Chocolate milk is free flowing (minus the frat party red solo cups, but you get the picture), and it shows by their overly hyper babbling of words, greeting me as I stumble out of my bedroom. I'm a complete fish out of water and I'm related to these boisterous frat boys!
As I sit with my morning jolt in a cup and work on trying to open the remaining eye that's still asleep, everyone talks to me a hundred miles an hour at a very high volume. It's like being inside a super-loud-cheery-happy-fun dryer in the tumbling cycle (that's been running on high since 5am).
I get yummy good morning hugs and kisses, and I know it's just a matter of time before I have to brace myself for the 'let's freak mommy out with blank - insert creepy bug, slimy substance, running with scissors stunt - here'.
And I've learned that the suddenly suspicious silence in a frat house full of 5am-ers is NEVER. EVER. A good thing.
One of their favorite pranks at the crack of dawn is strategically placing plastic, but very realistic bugs in the hallway or kitchen floor where they know I will be venturing soon enough.
Sometimes LIVE bugs are involved and although I really just want to ground them for plotting these schemes in my vulnerable (morning) state, I always play along, even if I am still in semi-conscious mode.
And when I react with the expected shock, awe and fright at these pranks, more frat-style wild belly laughter breaks out.
It's like my official rush, I'm given the bug hazing but no togas!
My mornings are full of the hustle and bustle of these activities and nonstop talking from these pocket-full-of-sunshine people. And as I look around, I am always amazed to see just how much has already taken place before 8am (when normal people like me wake up):
The majority of their toys have been brought out and played with, ALL over the house.
An elaborate pancake breakfast (courtesy of jolly morning chef Daddy) has been prepared and consumed (in full disclosure, you should know that when Daddy is not home, Mommy serves up bagels with cream cheese or granola with yogurt. Newsflash: I don't measure up to Daddy in the cooking department.)
SEVERAL impromptu experimental Science projects have taken place -- ALL over the kitchen counters.
Various other scenarios and shenanigans as the mood strikes.
Yup, morning people are known to be more productive.
These peeps certainly are.
As all of us, brand new or experienced moms can identify, the exhaustion and sometimes irregular sleep from burning the midnight oil to get things accomplished can absolutely take a toll (oh and a thank you to my autoimmune-caused insomnia).
If you feel like you hit the ground running daily, you're not alone, join the rest of us here!
Although I am the lone night owl in my family of early birds, being a "present" mom and wife is a big component of my journey.
It's NOT always morning-glorious. It will never be perfect, but it's a life-changing role (to them and to me, too!) and it's not specific to only certain hours of the day.
Nor certain days of the week.
Or weeks of the month...
Our Mom journeys
are different, but constant.
We are Moms to the end.
Motherhood has no set hours.
I am absolutely certain as they get older I will miss the joyful morning chaos at the Frat House.
These fleeting, chaotic moments are ones that should also be cherished.