As any decent teenager I used to love late nights and getting up late in the morning. I would play games until around 11pm, and then get lost in the internet until around 1 in the night. That would always result in me being very tired in the morning, so I would wake up at around 8, falling asleep again until 9 and finally crawling out of my sheets at 10.
There were some days when I would get up at 5, to go fishing in our neighbors pond or collect firecrackers after new years eve. But that was never the norm.
When I started university, everything changed. My courses would start at 8 in the morning, just as my school did. But I was suddenly responsible for myself. So I would have to schedule the preparations for food, the small cleanups/chores in the household that I missed the day before, the timing of public transport or many other things. It also was my very christian phase, so I’d spend around 30-45 minutes every day on bible studies, praying or worshiping.
I did this for around 2 years.
After that I would exchange my “time with god” with various other things.
I had my heavy music phase when I learned to play the ukulele.
There was a Freeletics phase, when I started working out and built some muscles.
I tried out meditation, breathing exercises, mobility training.
There was barefoot running in the dark, going to the gym, reading consistently.
All of them took place in the early morning, all of them from around 6-7.
I started to enjoy the quietness, the loneliness. The view of the world getting awake. I’ve read numerous books on morning rituals, trying to get even more out of these precious hours of the day.
Then we got kids and they absolutely annihilated my carefully crafted routines.
Disclaimer: Now this isn’t going to be another r/KidsAreFuckingStupid post, I promise, please continue reading!
It’s not only that they took over the time from 5 on (because, guess what dad, I am awake and want to explore everything I explored yesterday evening, again). It’s also the lack of sleep. Or better, the lack of quality sleep.
I wouldn’t have believed anyone if they would’ve told me about the sleep drain effect kids have on their parents (in fact many have told me about it before our kids). It was the single most surprising thing that changed after we became a “proper” family. All the other negatives can be handled by sane Toni (me, if you forgot my name - no offense 😆). I can deal with the obstacles in my life. I can deal with the obstacles in the life of my daughters.
It’s like juggling, I’m used to three balls.
It is fine if you add another one.
It is fine If it’s bottles instead of balls.
All of that requires just more training.
But sleep deprivation is like setting the stage on fire!
It’s an entire different evolution of a beast.
This is the time when your selfish inner a**hole comes out, throws the balls (or bottles) away and quits the show.
This describes my current situation with mornings. I’m no longer a Zen-Master in control. I’m the a**hole that only cares for myself. The kids get their TV shows. They get chocolate cereals. They are allowed to throw their dirty, sticky hands against our new white, precious walls, time and time again. (Sane me wouldn’t even allow myself to touch these.)
Just so that I get 5 minutes for myself. To do the things I really need in the moment, like writing this post.
I will survive. My kids will as well.
We will all grow up and laugh at this.
We will love the mornings, again.
Together ❤️