My kids bring a whole new meaning to early risers. Between 4:45 and 5:15am these days there is a three your old snuggling me so tight you would think she’s actually trying to put herself back inside of my body. And as soon as that one sweet second is over, she’s up. So up she sings and bounces and wants breakfast and wants to go talk to her baby sister who has likely just barely started making sounds.
This 5am business is not good for me.
For starters, it’s not good for my mom bod.
Do you know how hard it is to wake up and get to the gym at 5am? Ok, so take that hardness and multiply it not by a voice in your head telling you not to go, but by a real-life human voice actually begging you not to go to the gym. And then multiply that by the threat of her waking all the other humans in the house if you do decide you will, in fact, go to the gym anyway.
It’s not good for my patience.
There’s no chance for coffee or mindless phone scrolling or even toothbrushing before I have to tell someone, “No” for the first time every day. I’m often frustrated before I’ve even so much as opened my eyes.
It’s not good for my marriage.
This is the type of thing that has me muttering, “Well maybe you shouldn’t have stayed in bed all day,” under my breath at the sight of my husband sauntering down the stairs at the leisurely hour of 6:17am.
The funny thing is, I’m actually not opposed to early mornings. In fact, I can picture myself waking up at 4:47am, just barely in time to get to the gym for my favorite 5am class, getting home around 6:07 and taking a super quick shower. A shower without an audience…ahhh…and then proceeding to dry my hair, get dressed and do my makeup without anyone else touching my things or needing to pee or wanting a different show or climbing into the crib with the baby or putting half a jar of vaseline in their hair. Just me, getting ready and emerging from the bathroom at 6:30am ready to take on those kiddos!
Oh, sorry. Was I daydreaming again?
Back to reality.
Me in the morning:
My kids in the morning:
Caveat: I thankfully have a 6 year old who sleeps in until 6:30, bless her precious, precious, precious soul. Though, don’t bless her too much because as the oldest, she began this legacy of insanely early rising and her dear sisters are just likely trying to make her proud.
Early morning mommin’ ain’t easy. Here’s to coffee and kids and the fact that they’ll one day be teenagers who we’ll be complaining about dragging out of their beds.