Back Home Again in Indiana
I forget where I saw the 8 Minute Memoir, but it seemed like a good writing exercise so I figured I’d jump on board. I’m already incredibly behind and have no idea when/if I’ll finish it. Such suspense!
My dad always says one of the things that first impressed him about my mom was her ability to sleep in. Jesse always says one of the things that first slightly alarmed him about me was my ability to sleep in. He made the mistake of calling me before 10 in the am on a Saturday exactly once. 10 years later and he’s turned me into a full blown morning person.
If I wake up later than 8, I’m annoyed that half the day is gone. I hear the crazy in that statement, but by the time I unload the dishwasher, get Boogs breakfast, make my breakfast, make coffee, fight with Boogs over changing his diaper/pull up, clean up the breakfast mess, take (or skip) a shower, get dressed, and get Boogs second breakfast, it’s basically noon. But if I can wake up before 8 and get most of that done before Boogs is up (on a good day), the tone for the day is something else entirely.
It’s part of why I don’t mind waking up at 4:30 in the am to go to Orangetheory. By the time I get home at 6:10, I’ve already accomplished something without a thousand interruptions which makes the morning chaos 1000% more tolerable. But as much as I love waking up early to work out, I love waking up early to be left alone even more.
To have the peace and quiet of the whole house to yourself is a joy I never fully appreciated until I had a kid, but waking up before anyone else is one of the Seven Wonders of the World. It’s the best to do list tackling time, the best reading time, the best staring blankly at the wall time. It doesn’t happen nearly enough, but when it does, I bask it in like it may be the last time. . .because it might very well be.