In that foggy, hazy mist of life that exists roughly between the hours of 5:30 a.m. to 7:30 a.m., when my eyes refuse to open completely and my manners are still hitting snooze and I’m pretty sure I should be forced to wear some sort of a muzzle before speaking to anyone until my brain is running on all cylinders, I indulge myself in a daydream…
It’s a fantasy of waking up on my own, when my body actually says, “I’m ready for you to begin your day now, Christine.” Maybe that time on the clock will be only 8:00 a.m. but I know it will be my will rather than the will of a three or four year old announcing, from the living room aglow with the dim flicker or Dora the Explorer, “MOM! I want juice…PLEASE!”
Sigh.
I know all you wise parents of teens or twenty-year-olds will be quick to remind me that these days are so brief and will be over before I know it. I know you will also tell me that these are actually the “easy” years. And believe me, I know I will think the same thing when a mom with little ones laments over lack of sleep when I am older and my kids want almost nothing to do with me. I will want these days back of shagging sippy cups and dry cereal in little plastic bowls when the sun hasn’t even made an appearance yet.
But for now I just want a long, uninterrupted snooze; one that I awake from when it suits me and one that I can adjust to slowly so I can brush my teeth, shower, and eat food of my own before having to speak to anyone else.
So now that I am awake, I have shared with you my inner most yearnings for the day, I will get up and change my daughter’s diaper which I just heard her fill from across the room. And I will remember this moment as a gift I was once given ten years from now.
Happy Thursday.
The Neurotic Optimist 