Thursday, October 22, 2009
So this is what the mornings look like now. All frosty and delicious. There is something about a 35 degree morning that makes you want to be warm and cozy at home. Isabel woke up so well—early even-- bounding out of bed in all her pink-feety-jammied fuzziness. Did I say early? I did.
We had set out her clothes last night, and Eric warmed them up, so she wouldn’t be getting into assaulting cold clothes. She got dressed, easy- no crying. Truman got dressed with Eric, no crying. I whispered a prayer and breathed a sigh of relief.
She snuggled on top of the covers in our freshly made bed— “Mom, I cry sometimes because I don’t like to leave in the middle of the night. We go to Wendy’s in the middle of the night now. We go in the daytime when it’s hot.” True darlin’. That’s what it feels like.
I got to explain a few things about the time of year, how soon we’ll change our hours a bit and be better--more in tune with the sun.
I’m going to be honest, the last two weeks I dread mornings. I dread dragging kids out of bed into the cold darkness, making their little bodies shiver and get all goose-bumpy with as we pull on cold clothes. As they wail, and cry. It takes twice as long as it should to wrestle them into their clothes. Not to mention their coats and shoes too. I keep thinking, what on earth will I do when we get to gloves, scarfs, hats, snow boots and God forbid the whole teflon-type-suit on super snow days.
I don’t remember last year being this um, discouraging.
We’ve adjusted lots of things: our morning routine, breakfasting and such. But now we get up even earlier to accommodate for how long it takes the little people to wake up without the aid of the sun.
I found myself saying last night to one of my trusted mentors, I’m overwhelmed and exhausted with mornings. Together we brainstormed ideas for helping with afternoon and bedtime, which in turn may help in the morning. Exerting energy is so important— something we forget in the cold.
So we took a little failed walk on our favorite trail. Rainy, freezing cold with our excited dog and overwhelmed children. Again lots of crying, stamping of feet, throwing a set of mittens over a bridge, disciplining, packing in the car, going home defeated.
But then something happened. A collective sigh of exerted energy. Even for those ten minutes. We came home, spent some family time drank hot chocolate. And the rest of the evening was... dare I say... Lovely.
In the words of my sweet mentor-friend, “Stay consistent, Mary.”