I am not nor have I ever been a morning person. When I was younger, I would sleep in on Saturdays until noon. Pre-child, I still slept in until noon. Once my husband asked how I was able to sleep in so late. “Easy, you just roll over.”
Growing up, my dad would resort to: 1. A wake up call. “Time to wake up.” 2. Turning on my lights. I don’t know about you but lighting can severely disturb my sleep. Our neighbor’s flood light shines into our bedroom window. I’ve seriously considered getting a BB gun and shooting the light out, but that’s probably a topic for another day. 3. A cold wet wash cloth. I would like to say option 3 only happened once due to the sheer displeasure of waking up to a cold wet thing on your face. Sadly, that method became a pretty common occurrence until my brother began driving at which point, “I’m leaving in 10 minutes” was a much stronger motivator.
There was a point in the recent past where I would get up at 5:30 am, 3 days a week to work out. I think because I had a 1-year-old, was recovering from sleep deprivation and had no idea what it meant to have a normal sleep schedule, I was for a short stint, a morning person. Mind you, there were nights I was asleep on the couch by 7:30. That’s the price of being a morning person.
Not only do I prefer to sleep late, but when I do wake up, I’m rather unpleasant. I’m a zombie. I don’t talk. I don’t even grunt. If you’re not careful, I might bite your head off. I sometimes can’t even fully open my eyes. If it’s early enough, I will get dressed in the dark with my eyes closed. So far no major mishaps because of this so I’m sticking to it.
Waking up on my own is hard enough, but I’m worse when someone else wakes me up. Just ask my husband. Actually, it’s a bit of an unpleasant topic, so don’t ask him. I think I might have traumatized him a time or two. Grumpy. Wrong side of the bed. You name it, that’s me.
There are some exceptions. Our child. How can you act grumpy if she’s waking you up because she had a bad dream or because she needs to go potty. She’s only 3. My tolerance level might change when she’s 18 AND still waking me up at 3 am to announce that she is going to the bathroom.
Recently my boss asked if I was a morning person because I’m in to work by 8. You would have thought I was denying having committed a crime. Of course I’m not a morning person. There’s not even enough coffee in the world to make me a morning person. No seriously, I’m not a morning person. I only make it in to work by 8 because of the sheer fact that I have to drop my child off at daycare. I would much rather prefer to stay up into the wee hours of the night getting things done and roll in to work around 9:30. Sadly most daycares don’t stay open that late. Not only that they typically frown upon you showing up well past closing time to pick up your child. Not sure why I felt so compelled to defend my anti-morning person status. It’s not such a bad thing waking up early. You get more done. Depending on your schedule, it can be the only time to fit in a workout or have some alone time.
So, I’m working on becoming a morning person. And by that I mean, not rolling over. My first step is just getting up when the alarm goes off so I can have a decent breakfast, shower, get ready, help get my child ready, get her off to day care and get to work without rushing around. Maybe even get in a workout. You can’t expect me to do all those things and be chipper. At least not now. Baby steps.
It doesn’t help that my child is apparently not a morning person either. She’s not quite as unpleasant, but she does hide underneath the covers when she hears us coming down the hall or when we turn her light on. We haven’t yet resorted to the wash cloth. I don’t think I can stomach that.