There are mornings that challenge my good mom intentions, because it is work, people!
I wish I wasn’t as concerned about sending my kids off without a decent breakfast, making sure they have lunch packed or spending those few hours with them before our outside days begin.
Because then I could sleep late, get myself up and ready without hassling them to feed the dog, empty the dishwasher, wear clean clothes - not those, you wore those earlier this week - brush your teeth, yes brush! Not just touch toothbrush to teeth, brush!
A teenage boy’s ability to sleep through several alarm clocks is an amazing feat. His alarm wakes me up in my room, and he can snooze right through a good ten minutes of it ringing before I throw the covers back, storm into his room and growl at him for being a pain in my ass. Sometimes with those very words. If I can articulate them. Sometimes it’s just the growling.
My daughter is starting to exhibit a whole new menu of early morning frustrations. S…l….o…w. We are slow. It takes three times as long to get dressed, even after picking out clothes the night before. Eating breakfast is now a spectator sport, I swear. She takes longer to eat breakfast than any person I have ever known. It’s probably better for her digestion, but holy hell I want to chew her food for her and regurgitate it out of my gullet some mornings. Just to have it over and done with so she can now spend an eon brushing her hair.
She’s missed the bus a few times too many by a minute or so due to her inability to arrange her time better. This she comes by naturally, unfortunately, as I am always cruising on the edges of my own timeliness and often try to stretch the space- time continuum as far as it will go. I recognize this fact and how this must irritate the hell out of every one around me because Oh My Gods, I want to bounce my head off the wall in the mornings when I’m trying to move her along and she is in her own personal head space, oblivious to everything else. This is my payback for daydreaming my way through middle school, I swear. I can feel the laughter of my 5th grade teacher, Mr. Graessle, reaching out to poke me from the distant past. I drove this guy nuts in 5th grade, constantly staring out the window, in la-la land, day dreaming my way through math and never knowing what the hell he was talking about because my brain was fantasizing about everything but class work.
My husband continues to remind me that the mornings probably wouldn’t be so frustrating if we pushed them into bed early enough for them to get 10 hours of sleep every night. It’s not that I disagree with him but getting a 14 year old boy to go to bed willingly at 8:00 pm is not without its very own frustrations and I am weak of spirit at bedtime. I just want peace. Or a Xanax. Whichever is easier.
Or a live-in Nanny, like Alice. See? There’s that day dreaming again.
3 comments:
Good luck there. I have a 15 year old son and I have to say he doesnt go to bed before 10 any given night and he also gets up at 6am every day on his own.
With some kids its not so much about how much sleep they get it's more about setting up a daily routine.
That bit about wanting to chew up the food for her? Made me laugh out loud. So thanks for that.
My youngest is my slow one in the morning, so I feel your pain...The more I try to light a fire under his cute little behind, the slower he goes, which makes me witchy. Not a good way to start the day! ("MOVE. YOUR. ASS! MOVE IT! NOW!")
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