Tuesday, March 15, 2011

A new leaf, pt. 1

I am not what you would call a "morning person."

I trained myself to drink coffee my freshman year because I could not stay awake in my 9 a.m. class. Believe me, I tried. I took diligent notes for about 20 minutes, and then you could see the lines fade as I dozed off while trying desperately to form one... last... word... Needless to say, the coffee didn't help.

I may or may not have taken to throwing things at roommates in college who attempted to rouse me before the reasonable hour of noon. (Don't worry, nothing breakable.)

Once I started my "real" job, I was surrounded by people who were as chipper as I was in the morning. We all stumbled into the office by 7:30 a.m. You knew better than to offer anything more than a grunt and nod until at least 9 a.m. or 2 cups of coffee, whichever came first.

Motherhood sealed my dependence on coffee and late night wake-ups did nothing to help the whole "good" morning thing. And I have good sleepers! I will never understand how my friend survived, since both her boys did not sleep through the night until they were 2. They're 2 years apart, so that's 4 straight years of sleeplessness. She deserves a medal. Seriously.

Admittedly, I have an extra reason to have trouble in the mornings. We live in the allergy capital of the world (okay, slight exaggeration, but it's bad!) When I wake up, my head feels like it weighs about 20lbs and like my sinuses are about to explode. So I lay in bed, wishing I was still asleep so I didn't feel like poo.

Somewhere along the line Nathaniel started waking up before everyone. Once he heard his daddy in the shower, he'd come into our bedroom and sit down with the dog, who sleeps on a blanket next to our dresser. When Hubby would come out of the bathroom, he'd jump a mile when two sets of eyes were staring at him in the dark. But he'd give me a peck on the cheek and on a good day I'd reply with "uh." Then he'd take the kiddo downstairs, and set him up with cartoons and juice before leaving for work.

I usually need an episode of fill-in-your-Disney-cartoon to peel my face off my pillow, stumble through the shower and into the waiting arms of my Keurig. By then baby girl is usually awake and hollering for Mommy, so the chaos begins.

I've had a few years to practice this routine and get it down pat. But last week I got a wake up call. This time next year, we will have already gone through kindergarten round up. The school bus rolls down my street at about 7:20 and most mornings I don't even hear it. I have to be ready to put my pint-sized-oh-my-gosh-is-he-really-5-years-old child onto a bus in August 2012.

I may not survive.

If I want to be conscious and at least pseudo-coherent at that time of morning, I'm gonna have to start, uh, well, yesterday.

That hasn't gone so well so far... be continued...

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