NOT a Morning Person…
I am NOT the mom who wakes up an hour early to make breakfast. I am NOT the mom who sets out clothes the night before (well, not often.) I am NOT a morning person.
I LOVE to sleep. I mean, I REALLY love to sleep. I have most of my life. And I can sleep anywhere, in any situation or under almost any circumstance. I AM a mass consumer of caffeine. Coffee and energy drinks are my way of life. For some strange reason, I was NOT blessed with daughters who follow my path of sleep. I was given two daughters whos pep and enthusiasm begin spilling from their mouths before their eyes are even open. With that said, after 9 years one would think I would be organized enough to actually use the program feature on my ridiculously expensive Ninja coffee maker so that I at least had coffee before I wake my two little rays of sunshine up to get ready for school. But I do not. Apparently, I am a glutton for punishment.
I stay up late doing homework, product reviews, and binging whatever show I have found interesting enough to listen to while I color, crochet, or knit. I tell myself that tomorrow night I will go to sleep one hour earlier. That night never comes. I set alarms at 15-minute intervals for an hour before it’s time to wake up the wee demons and get them ready. I wake them.
Make coffee or grab an energy drink. Teacup (my 9yo) gets her and KaleesiMouse (my 5yo) breakfast bars and then they plop down on my LoveSac bed. The chatter commences. I point to my caffeinated drink of choice. “Not yet,” I say. They do not listen. I grumble and start wrestling with KaleesiMouse to get dressed.
“Why is this so hard? Why can you not stop talking long enough to pay attention to getting dressed? I have to pee. Put your pants on.” This last statement is the kicker. It reminds me that KaleesiMouse is actually very like me under the surface. “IiiiiIIIIIiiii can’t!!! I don’t know which leg goes where!” The crocodile tears and whining begins. At this point, I know that I cannot ask Teacup to help, Mouse will NOT have that. I, however, am not the person who handles this shit well.
Eventually, we get it sorted and both girls are dressed and ready for school. We pile into Negan (my Toyota Tundra) and head to school. The girls are chatty. I am not. For the most part, they respect this. They know mom is a grumpy bitch in the morning and try to give me my space. Does this make me a bad person? Should I change everything about who I am to give them the illusion that they have a “normal” morning mom?