I get up early – typically between 5 and 6 a.m. That’s when I don’t wake up TOO early – often around 2:30 or 3 a.m. But I treasure that early morning time when no one else is up yet. I was still a child when I started to get up that early. I would have ice cream for breakfast or, as I got older, I’d sneak a cigarette in the bathroom before anyone else was up.
These days, I often don’t get up til 6, and then the kids are up at 6:30 or, like today, up before me, lying on the floor outside the bedroom, in the dark, waiting for me to get up. The five year old. He was coughing (asthma, we think/hope) so I gave him some honey and led him back to bed, but that only bought me a few minutes of quiet before it was 6:30, when they’re both allowed to get up.
After that, the day falls into a rhythm of providing them some structure and schedule to do things, but today was a bit rocky. I am always trying to snatch time to do some work and often feeling scattered. I’m not complaining, just describing my new reality.
Once their mama gets off work, I try to do the other things that I used to have all day to do. And then relax for a bit. And I end up going to bed later than I meant to, with no way of knowing if I’ll sleep til 6 or be up at 3:30.
It will get easier. I know it will. It’s not even that it’s hard or awful right now. It’s just a big change. Demanding in new ways. And I’m tired at the end of the day.
That’s all. Lol, I don’t have a story or a nice twist to offer. I am just holding space for myself and the people in my family, for clients and occasionally a friend. I try to believe that whatever I’m doing is going to be enough.