I am not a morning person. Back when I had to get up for clinic early-early-early in the mornings, I used to put off getting out of bed until the last second, about 15 minutes before I needed to leave the house; I'd then stumble down the stairs, put on some coffee, shower, dress, retrieve the coffee into a travel mug, and try to wake up and drive simultaneously (no pedestrians, other cars, or wildlife were harmed in this endeavor).
Anyway, there are times when I really hate waking up in the morning. Like when the squirrels that live in the tree right above my bedroom decide to do their morning pinecone-bombing of my roof. I have still not figured out why some mornings at the crack of dawn the squirrels are motivated to throw pinecones at my roof. Most mornings they don't do it. There is no sleeping through it when they get going, though.
Or when I wake up to the melodious sounds of arguing children. Luckily I have two not-morning children who like to sleep in even more than I do. UNluckily I have one morning child who wakes up ready to TAKE ON THE WORLD, usually before anyone else. He likes to lurk in the hallways waiting for any sign of awakeness from anybody else. Again, unluckily, this means that when DD rolls over and rearranges her bedding she's usually confronted with BOYCHILD RIGHT IN HER LINE OF SIGHT waiting for her to show signs she's ready to wake up. And then the "go away" "but don't you want to come have breakfast with me" irritation begins.
Let's not forget those mornings when I wake up sore and still-tired from the pregnant-woman semi-sleep fiasco.
But then there are mornings that are just lovely. This morning it is bright and clear outside. Because my sister is visiting and sleeping in one of the cooler areas of the house, the heat was already turned up. The up-too-early Boyness put off doing dishes last night and is industriously washing away in the kitchen. The coffee is good, the rest of the house is asleep, and I get to hole up in the den and act like it's me, the coffee, and the sunshine. For at least an hour. This is sanity, people.
Thanksgiving Letter to the Family
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