morning glories

One of my greatest pleasures in life is sleeping in. A good day would start out by being able to stay curled under my down comforter until at least 9 am.

Notice I say would be because it’s next to impossible to sleep late in a house of early-risers, some of whom drag themselves out of bed at ungodly hours - usually somewhere around 6:15 am.

Hubby will often find the littlest one next to the tub, waiting to give him his towel after showering. (Don’t be tempted to think he’s being quite helpful - he’s only there to sit next to the heater.) The two middles ones will be downstairs, fighting over who gets to pour his cereal first, who gets which blanket on the couch, and on a good day, they’ll yell at each other to be quiet so they don’t wake up Mom. On days like those, I’ve finally learned to pray before I get out of bed.

Did I mention (or did you assume) that I am not a morning person. I do not get up and get going willingly, and never without coffee. I could work a night shift much more easily than I could get to work by 8 am. Night owls are usually like that. And we’ve usually figured out that 11 pm is the only time the house is quiet and we can actually get something done. Something that will stay done until morning.

Occasionally I do get the opportunity to sleep in, but so many things have to fall exactly into place that the odds are about one in 978,643 that it could happen. First, there has to be milk and cereal available. And clean bowls. The temperature can’t be below 68 degrees in the house. One child can’t have woke up grumpy (that should show you how impossible this is.) And there has to be a new toy, game or activity to entertain them. Quietly.

You’d think checkers would be a quiet activity. Wrong. I have waked to wood game pieces being pelted into the walls and banshee howling by one who got hit. You’d also think that Qubo’s cartoons would keep them quiet, but only if all four are in pleasant moods and willing to compromise on a seating arrangement.

The only thing that seems to work is if at least two are sick. (The oldest is off reading a book somewhere and the non-sick one knows better than to bug the others.) Then they just sort of sit there. No one pesters anyone. No yelling. No whining. No noise. I’d consider them true morning glories, if it weren’t for puke buckets and sick breath.

I’m 11 years into this raising kids business and God has finally gifted me with the ability to tune out just about anything. It’s a great talent. Not only does it allow me to catch a few extra winks in the morning, so I can get up at, say 7:30 am, but I can ignore someone whistling the theme song to “The Andy Griffith Show.” I don’t even flinch when something bangs or smacks or goes splat. I can tune out whining so well that I miss noises the van makes. And I’ve taught Boy #1 how to make oatmeal. That trick works well until it’s time to divvy up frozen blueberries - that’s a Mom-sized job because no one dares to argue with me about whether they got less than their brother.

I’ve been praying that those little eyeballs wouldn’t pop open every day at the crack of dawn. But, so far that selfish prayer hasn’t been answered.

Complain all you want about teenagers. I’m looking forward to those years - they might actually sleep in!