The alarm on my phone goes off. The tone picking up tempo and volume as I fumble to reach it to MAKE. IT. SHUT. UP!
It’s too early
No human should have to get up by way of an alarm, it’s unnatural.
It’s 7:45am on Thursday. I’ve gotten roughly seven hours of sleep. WAY too little for me to function normally or pleasantly or really, at all. I whip off the toasty warm cocoon of my comforters as I grumble expletives into the air. Cursing at the fan because it’s the closest thing to me at this point that I can focus on. Stumbling into the bathroom I go over the mental list of what I need to get done prior to leaving the house this morning – breakfast dishes, start laundry, make in bed, get dressed, brush teeth, pull meat for dinner tonight… I make my way to Christian’s room.
“Chris”, I hiss as I start to pull his cocoon of toasty warmth off of him. He revolts! Yanks back at the covers and whines as he buries himself further under the covers.
“Chris! You need to get up. Let’s go, GET UP!”, I say as I pull the covers off of him. He curls up into a roly-poly and whines in protest. I don’t blame him. It’s early, it’s cold, it’s early. I pull open the blinds in his room and he lets out another whine in protest as his eyes shoot open in response to the sunlight streaming through his room, assaulting his face. I imagine his pupils shrinking in shock of such a thing happening. I make my way to his closet and then dresser to pick out his clothes for the day. It’s too early and we are in a hurry to get out of the house in 1 hour and 10 minutes. There is no time for his dawdling. Not today.
“Make in your bed, get dressed, let’s go!” I bark as I make my way down the hall to Cody’s room. I swear, I don’t know how the child stays warm with just one comforter on him at night. Whereas his brother requires two blankets and a comforter and I require two comforters and a blanket (and sometimes my rob as well) he sleeps with one single comforter, a thin one at that.
“Cody, up, now!”, I say with urgency as I make my way to his blinds and yank them open. “NO!” he moans as he tries to shield his face. “Get up! You have basketball and you need to walk Slayer before we leave. Get up, get up, GET. UP.!”
I’m making my way down the stairs when ‘he needs to wear a black and white shirt for practice’ jumps into my mind “And wear a black and white shirt”, I yell back up at him. Inaudible moaning makes its way down in response as I hear his feet hit the floor. I look at the clock. Crap! I go back over my mental list of things that I need to get done before we leave the house. I rush into the kitchen to start oatmeal and check what meat I need to pull out for dinner tonight. Then I go into the basement to let the dog out. I forget to grab the meat from the deep freezer.
I don’t like mornings like this. They don’t happen often, once a week in fact. It reminds me of the luxury that we have by homeschooling. I remember all too well that this was the normal routine, though much, much earlier, when both boys were in school. There was more yelling too, way more yelling, and threats too. I did have to throw down a threat this morning though. Why is it so hard for pre-teen boys to remember to put on deodorant? It’s amazing what the probability of no video game time can produce (eye roll).
I read Tracey’s post at Just Another Mommy Blog this morning (because I didn’t get to bed until like 12:30am), and nodded my head in agreement with what she had shared. Our schedules have shifted this year. We are up later; the boys now have the ability to spend more time with their dad at night. Something that was unheard of while they were in school. Bedtime was 9:30pm back then. Cody had to wake up at 6:30am, Chris at 7:15am. The boys are up, sometimes, as late as 11pm and we adjust the rest of our schedule accordingly. We don’t roll out of bed until 9am, maybe 9:30am. But not Thursdays. Thursdays are my weekly reminder of how fricking blessed we are. Blessed that we have the ability to homeschool, blessed that my son has such opportunities as a homeschool basketball team to wake up early for, blessed that tomorrow I don’t have to wake up to an alarm clock, blessed that what started out as a small annoyance of building tempo and volume became a reminder of what it was once like, and now no longer has to be.