Mountain View Mommy: Sand, Trucks and Testosterone

January 29, 2007

My alarm clocks

Filed under: Parenthood — by mvmommy @ 7:01 am

Since having kids, sleeping in is a luxury that I simply cannot afford. Not that I don’t want to, believe me I do. And if there was a way to pay my children to sleep in… they would be rich and I would be in bed still. However, to a toddler, sleep is overrated.

My kids are like alarm clocks. They wake up every morning at approximately the same time. Andrew usually wakes first. He will sit there staring at Justin across the room, waiting for him to stir. When he sees him move, he launches into song, a rehearsed story, or just a fit of laughter that results in banging on the walls. Justin will simply watch him and start laughing or bang on the walls like his big brother. Eventually I will drag myself from my warm cocoon of a bed, and open the door to two smiling faces and a fit of laughter. It’s the best alarm clock in the world.

However, some mornings, like today… the stars align and my alarm clock breaks.

I woke this morning to silence. My first thought was, oh crap is it 5:30 or 6 again? Why am I awake? I lay there thinking, go back to sleep. Don’t open your eyes. And I pull up the covers tighter around my head and try to ignore the fact that I want to brush my teeth desperately and go to the bathroom. If there was a way to do that without getting out of my warm bed, I wish someone would invent it & let me know.

Then after a bit of laying there, I realize that I am not tired. Humm, that is odd. I usually have insomnia, but I am always tired. What time is it? I crack an eye open and realize it’s 7:30. How is it possible that it’s 7:30 and my kids are still in bed? I dare not move for fear of waking the sleeping beasts. So I lay there. 5 minutes. 10 minutes. 15 minutes. Still silence, except for my husband who is snoring rudely in my face.

Now I don’t know what to do. If I move, I will surely wake them. They have the ears of a bat. Seriously, if I roll over, Andrew wakes and starts saying “hello?” I have to tiptoe by their bedroom door, but he still knows I am there. He then will start yelling “Knock Knock Who’s there?” It’s as if he can smell my fear of detection. So I lay there & listen. Still silence.

Do I get up? Do I lay here? Then I start thinking…. this is one of those rare moments of silence during the daylight hours. I could be drinking tea that is still warm and eating cereal that has not gone soggy already. It’s a special gift, and I shouldn’t be wasting it. I shouldn’t lay here! What was I thinking! Get up. GET UP! Every moment that ticks by is a moment further away from realizing my goal.

At this point, my bed becomes a trap. I know I must get out quickly & quietly. I gently slide out of it, so as not to disturb any of the men. I pee without flushing, for fear that the toilet will be too loud. I drip two drops of water onto my toothbrush so that the faucet won’t disturb their slumber. I literally tiptoe and run down the hallway, holding onto the wall for support to get to the safety of the staircase! I made it! I am downstairs! I am free!

How do I celebrate my freedom?

Once downstairs, I notice that there are things to be picked up and breakfasts to be made and email to be read. And before I know it… I never got that cup of tea and my cereal was soggy once again! And someone is upstairs already singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Ahhhh, focus Michelle. Focus. Time’s a wastin’

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