Waking Up

Why is it so hard to wake kids up for school each morning? They moan and groan and tell me how tired they are and that they didn’t get enough good sleep during the night. I have one who would rather skip orchestra, another who would rather skip breakfast. It’s a battle as I try to find the right way to gently wake them in the morning so they will be in a good mood and productive in the morning right before school. I gently rub backs and whisper, “Time to wake up.” in my most soothing voice. I turn on the hall light rather than the bedroom light. I talk to them softly to ease them into wakefulness. I remember having lights turned on and blankets abruptly pulled off me to wake me up faster. All that ever did was make me even more grumpy. So on the weekdays, I work hard to help us all have good, grumpy-free mornings. (It doesn’t always work…)

Then Saturday rolls around. The first Saturday in weeks that we don’t have to be anywhere at 8 or 9 am. The first Saturday that I don’t have to set my alarm because we can just wake up whenever we want. The sun isn’t even up yet, and I can hear those little feet, running up and down the stairs. Then I hear voices. At first, the voices are trying to stay quiet, but they are boys, you know. Boys don’t know what the word “quiet” actually means. A boy’s whisper is more like a hoarse shout. I can hear one voice, then two, then three. I hear laughter. I hear screaming (at least it’s happy screaming!). I hear more running, doors slamming (at least he closed the bathroom door, right?), dishes banging.

I look at the clock. 7:15 am. Sigh. I bury myself further into my blankets, knowing that My husband isn’t leaving the house for at least 15 more minutes. Sure enough, he comes into the bedroom just 5 minutes later to kiss me goodbye. I hear the front door close and I the not-so distant sound of his car starting. It’s just me with the wolf pack.¬†

The kids are apparently hungry and I hear more dishes banging. Suddenly, I hear screaming. This time it’s angry screaming. Crying screaming. Dallin has toasted the last two PopTarts and Parker didn’t want his PopTart toasted. I call them to my room and convince Parker to stick his PopTart in the fridge. Dallin happily eats his breakfast and says, “At least I got myself food, right?” Several minutes later, I’m getting requests to play on the laptop or the Wii. ¬†Someone else is asking for help getting something out of the pantry. Soon I’m going to have to drive the Cub Scout to meet his den (it’s Scouting For Food collection day). We don’t have much required of us today, but it feels like it’s going to be a full day.

8 am and I’m up. That’s all the “sleeping in” I’ll get for today.

Is it nap time yet?