I really love early mornings. Most days I wake up at 6:00 am, spring out of bed after a restful night and head straight down to the gym, where I work out for a solid hour. Then I take a yoga class and come home, all before my husband wakes up. By the time the kids are up, I've cleaned the house and baked a whole batch of delicious muffins for everyone.
La, la la, la la, la, la.
Mm hm, hm, hm. De da da da.
No, you're right, doesn't sound like me at all.
I am not a morning person. As far as I'm concerned, early mornings can take a running leap into a firey pit of snakes and cockroaches and never bother me again.
When it comes to sleep, I'm greedy. It's like that with anything if you've been deprived of it for long enough. First thing in the morning? I don't want to be disturbed. I don't want to talk. I don't want to sing or dance or do anything requiring energy. If I never woke up before 8:00 am ever again, I'd be okay with that.
Which is why I'll do pretty much anything to get few extra minutes of sleep in the morning.
This morning, as usual, my younger son woke up around 6:30 and, as usual, I gave him his milk and crawled back into bed and fell into a heavenly slumber. Then, not as usual, my older son woke up. It was 6:45 and I could hear him calling for me.
Reluctantly but instinctively, I went to him to see what was up.
"Mummy! .... The digger! .... My face! .... It hurt!"
I finally figured out he'd been lying close to a couple of toy trucks and diggers, and one of them must have accidentally poked him in the face.
I soothed my son, then helped him back into bed. Like me, Matthew is not one for early mornings. Normally. Except for this morning.
"I'm not tired Mummy. I want to get up now."
Realizing I was dangerously close to having to actually get up and open my eyes and be awake and do things, I tried my best to intercept the inevitable. "Shhhhh, shhhhh, it's still the middle of the night." I assured him and climbed into his bed. And fell promptly asleep.
Five minutes later. One inch from my face. "Mommy. Can we get up now?"
"Nooooo." I whispered. "S'too early. Go to sleep."
"No!" He said, jumping up.
And before I could stop myself, I went and did what we promised we'd never do.
"You can come into our bed."
And then we all slept blissfully forever after. Or, for another hour, anyway.
I just hope I haven't gone and started a new bad habit.
It was so worth it for the extra hour of sleep though.