The rational part of my brain understands there would probably be some benefit to my getting up an hour before the rest of the Johnson-folk emerge from their slumber. I could exercise. Or cook amazing breakfasts. Or read, alone.
Or whatever it is that organized people do when they get up well before the rest of their family. But I’m not a morning person. In fact, I find it difficult to think, or even speak until I’ve been up for about twenty minutes. There are those who hop out of bed and chirp ‘good morning’ cheerfully, wherever they go. And there are those who can only manage Peter Brady-esque croaking sounds when they open their mouth in the morning.
Obviously, I’m an (un-)proud member of the latter group. Which is probably why I don’t have a discernible hairstyle. Or wear makeup. Or….any number of things. Because all of those things require getting up more than thirty five minutes before I need to leave the house. A friend caught a glimpse of my driver’s license picture the other day. ‘Oh, was that before kids,’ she asked-accused. Because my hair was not in its trademark ponytail. And I was wearing makeup and looked semi-well-rested. (I usually do that for driver’s license or passport pictures.)
I like the idea of looking nice as much as the next person. But I just can’t give up even ten minutes of ‘pseudo-sleep’ to do so.
It could be purely psychological, but on the rare occasions when I am ‘up and at ’em’ before 7 o’clock, I feel exhausted by 9. ‘I’ve already been up for three hours,’ I’ll wail when I realize it is not anywhere near lunch-time.
I was lying on my bed in a semi-comatose state a few days ago. The Gort had crawled in beside me. He looked at the alarm clock. ‘It’s 7.19, mom, it’s time to get up.’ I squawked…something that was intended to mean ‘sure, just a minute’. ‘Mom, we’re going to be laaaaate,’ he chided two minutes later.
So I dragged myself out of bed because no six year old should have to beg his mom to get up in the morning. Of course, maybe the six year old could tell his brothers to stop waking up in the middle of the night. Or maybe said six year old could stay put in his own room until 7am instead of coming to my room at 4am….to tell me he’s just made his bed.
Come to think of it, maybe I should put the alarm clock in his room. And tell him to wake me up at 7.