My children are home again, a blessing of course, but the youngest might see an early death if he does not quickly adapt back to our routine. Among my frustrations is the early rising. This child tossed and turned, played, fussed, and made racket in his bed until nearly 10 PM last night, so why did he still wake before seven this morning? In fact, why is it that no matter what time a small child is put to bed, he will rise at the same hour? When I am struggling to open my own peepers, the last crack I want to see is dawn’s much less anyone else’s.
Yesterday, we planned an outing, a snack, naptime, and an afternoon date at the playground. We scored two of four. My son would not nap, and played in his room until he was allowed to descend from it at 3:15. On the way to the playground, he fell asleep, which meant turning around, driving back home for a now late-in-the-day nap, and a whole screwed up evening schedule—thus 10 PM frolicking. Because I was in and out of his room getting him settled (for example, removing the lamp that he insisted on playing with, shutting his door as a consequence, and retrieving a toy he was distracting himself with), my own work downstairs was constantly interrupted and I did not finish until late.
This morning, suddenly weaseling in my bed was my little Tiny Man. I was still fighting the concept of waking.
“Mommy!” he whispered excitedly. He slipped his cool hands around my neck and shoulders for a snuggle. This is beautiful and my favorite part of motherhood—the super sweet snuggles. What troubles me is the banging, noise making, stomping, and pow-pow psshtt boom sounds coming out of his mouth prior to this little moment and immediately after.
So today, I am tired, but it’s a new day. Today I will wear my children out at the river. We will look for bugs, fish, and ducks. I will listen to the kids giggle and splash. We will sleep on time. I will go to bed earlier. And maybe, I will duct tape that little child to his mattress… just kidding… maybe….