morning rising: fail

A few weeks ago I wrote about my intention to get up early, smell the roses, put a pot of coffee on the stove and have some time for me before the kidlets awake each day. For those of you thinking of me as dawn breaks, gently rising a foot here and an arm there in a delicate yoga pose, breathing in for four and out for four, gliding about my house in a serene manner and sipping a hot cup of coffee with a raised pinky while my children stir dreamily, I felt it was my responsibility to set you straight.

I got up early, yep: once.

I’m sorry to say it.

But I failed.

That one day that I did rise at 6am, the pixie was up and attached to me by 6.20. Birdie was hollering for her breakfast – NOW, at 6.40. Since that lovely day when I had a whole glorious 20 minutes to myself I have attempted a few times to rise early. But when Pixie began waking up a million times a night again (after I thought she had settled into a 1-2 times a night kinda thing) I temporarily put a halt on any dreams of this.

I hope you don’t think less of me. I must admit I still do find my time at night a lot more pleasurable because there is much less chance that one of them will wake up and I am likely to have a couple of hours to myself, if I please. In the mornings On that one morning, I did feel a bit stressed not knowing exactly how long I would have, and knowing that it wouldn’t be any more than one hour max.

So a halt to the plans for now, but I will try again… soon… yes…

Are you an early riser or a night owl?