A gift

Over the past year or so I keep hearing or reading about people's experiences with waking up early. One said that when she started setting her alarm for 5:30 a.m. each day, she was able to fall asleep at a reasonable hour every night and then slept like a rock, waking up refreshed. Several said they devoted that quiet, early time to studying the scriptures, cleaning, or just having breakfast alone. A few said that the habit began suddenly--one day, they just opened their eyes and were wide awake: surely a gift. Instead of falling back asleep, they got up and did their thing and their days were happier for it.

Intriguing. So a few months ago, after reading about the lady waking up at 5:30 on purpose, I told Matt that I would be getting up with him in the mornings during the week. (He leaves by 6.) He laughed and laughed. But the next day, sure enough, I bounced out of bed as soon as Matt tapped my shoulder. I headed to the kitchen and busied myself happily. Matt walked out shaking his head. Then, because I was awake to hear Ida before her chirps turned into calls, Theo slept for another hour.

Then the next day after that, sure enough, I swatted Matt's hand away and slept until the kids woke me up at 7:30. And that was the end of that.

But something needed to change. I was going to bed too late and waking up too late, throwing my whole family off. I realized it was getting ridiculous when one day last week I was SO tired that, when the kids' cries woke me up at 7 a.m., I promptly fell back asleep until 8. Eight!! Everyone was still alive (and even happy, actually, well the kids were anyway) but really? What do my neighbors think? Do I even want to know?

So this morning, I opened my eyes with a start at 6:03 a.m. I was wide awake in a silent house. This never happens to me. I always have to be coaxed out of bed and clearly even my kids' cries may not always do it. I looked around and thought about getting up. I thought about how I hadn't finished clearing the table the night before and how the laundry needed to be put away. I thought about how hectic and messy Monday mornings are, how much Theo and I always fight on Monday mornings, and how much I wanted Theo to be on time to preschool. Then I listened once more to the blissful quiet. I deliberately closed my eyes and floated back into dreamland.

An hour later, I opened my eyes again to the sound of the kids demanding to get up. Well, it was just Ida who wanted to get up; Theo wanted to go back to sleep. He proceeded to refuse to do pretty much anything--eat breakfast, get dressed, be rational, etc. After I finally wrestled him into his clothes and shoes, he ran back to his bed, trying to take them all off again in the process. We arrived at preschool 10 minutes late and I was furious with myself.

I don't know why I'm posting about this. Accountability, maybe. It would be nice to end it with, "And then I woke up early every day and I was the happiest lady that you ever did see."

Instead, my story is somewhat anticlimactic. But I realized for sure today that my eyes popping open all on their own this morning was a gift. I blatantly refused the gift and suffered the consequences: as on most Monday mornings, I did not take a shower, Theo and I battled constantly, and he was late to preschool. I wonder how different it could have been if I had gotten up early. Maybe I'll find out tomorrow. (maybe.)