In the year and a half that my husband and I dated, I knew two things for sure- he was a great cook and sucked at getting up before 10. The food hasn’t helped my waistline, but I used to enjoy those long Saturday mornings while he slept.
You wouldn’t think being a night owl would be genetic, but in our family, it is. My father-in-law rarely goes to bed before midnight and sleeps till 10 or 12, depending on his schedule. The same goes for my husband and his twins.
Every morning, I get up to take Queen Victoria out. Then I cuddle in bed and listen to the alarm go off 4 or 5 times. Revielle sounds at 7, and I’m on the wake up train. First dad, who says he’s got one more snooze, then the twins. They still, at 6, sleep like they did when they were infants. Curled up, hugging blankets, or Jamie, the blanket thief does. Lukas is usually out in the cold. But I rub their backs, tickle their bottoms and tug them out of bed.
My oldest, Sebastian, is like me, up and at ’em. Sometimes he’s too much for me in the mornings. He’s definitely too much for the sleepy heads that come trundling, bathrobe or blankets trailing, out of their rooms.
I make Dad his coffee and my latte and watch the show. It is like a circus in slow motion. Twins come out and lay one the love sac. Lukas listening for his stomach to growl before he heads towards the cereal boxes. Sebastian jumps around, eyeing Jamie, wanting to tickle him into alertness. Dad has a zombie stagger heading towards the coffee maker. Gheghis and Victoria put in their bids for attention, Ghenghis with his full 25 lbs of puggle mass. Lights flicker on, and the day has begun.
I miss my quiet mornings. I love the circus tho. Most mornings. Can’t wait for Saturday and Sunday, when the sleepy heads linger in bed, and I get my coffee in peace.
I don’t wonder at how all the men in my life have changed it, I am just glad that there are days that I can appreciate it.