Dear Mornings, I Hate You

I know it’s not Monday, so I have no reason to be particularly pissy about mornings…but something about this morning really rubbed me the wrong way. Perhaps it was the 80lb dog who thought it would be ok to plop his fat ass directly on top of my legs repeatedly all night…or the wood chipper…I mean…husband snoring next to me… Whatever the cause, I woke up on the WRONG side of the bed this morning and it made me think…I really wish mornings would flog off…

I’ve never been a morning person. Ever. I don’t know how or why those people are wired to spring from bed and be happy to start their day…I half want to stab them in the neck and half steal whatever it is that makes them that way. I wish I was just a little “Yay! It’s morning!”-ish. No amount of caffeine makes me happy to be awake before 10am. When I hear my alarm clock in the morning (my son whining from his room that he has to go potty), I want to slam my head into a wall or throw myself on the floor kicking and screaming. How could it possibly be morning already? Why is this kid awake at 6:30am?!? Has he no common decency??? RUDE.

Although I’ve never been a morning person, I feel like I was able to deal with mornings better before I had a child. I worked 10, 12, 14 hours a day…usually I was at work by 7:30, which means I had to leave my house at 6:30…which means I had to get up at 5:45…in the AM. I would then work all day, probably stop for happy hour, make the hour long trek home (subway to PATH train to bus) then get up and do it all over again the next day. Even then, I don’t recall hating mornings as much as I do now. I realize that this doesn’t make sense being that I no longer work outside of the home. I don’t need to wake up at 5:45am…I don’t even need to shower every day if I don’t want to. Some days, I don’t even get out of my jammies. Why are mornings infinitely harder now that I’m not working and have a child?

Perhaps it’s because pre-child, I didn’t have to speak before getting to work. That first hour and a half of my day was spent trying not to poke an eye out while applying eyeliner on the bus (I’m an expert public transportation makeup putter on-er, btdubs) and inhaling caffeine. The only interaction I had with other humans was to give dirty looks to people standing too close to me on the subway or elbowing someone who was taking their time walking up the stairs. (Get OUT of my way. Don’t you have anywhere to be?? MOVE! I’m BUSY!) Now, from before I open my eyes, there’s someone talking to me. A very small person with very big demands.

I have to go potty, I want to go downstairs, I want you to carry me, I don’t want pancakes, I want pickles for breakfast, I want to go to the park, I want to get dressed, I want more milk… All of this before I’ve had a second to go potty. Gone are the days of waking up and being able to wallow in my own pre-noon crankiness until I was ready to deal with the world. The ‘world’ is now a very needy, albeit, really really adorable little boy.

Anyway…there’s no real big ‘point’ to this post other than I freaking hate mornings. And now I freaking hate myself for eating a half a bag of Hot Tamale Jelly Beans as I wrote this. I’m going to vom.

So here’s to telling mornings to Flog Off! Who’s with me?!?!

Love you, mean it…




2 thoughts on “Dear Mornings, I Hate You

  1. THANK you! What is the deal? I used to be at work by 5:30, bright eyed if not-so-chipper every morning. And now that I have a four year old waking me up by demanding things at 6:30, forget it. If I have to do anything productive before 10 its a half-assed attempt to say the least.

  2. Why don’t they understand that we need a grace period before they can start barking orders at us? At least let a sister hit the bathroom before you’re screaming about wanting to watch tv and demanding breakfast. No respect.

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