Photo A Day: Morning

I've never been a morning person. I suffer from insomnia, I usually go to bed much later than I should, and I am slow to wake up, so morning is rarely my friend. In my younger days, I fought my way into consciousness each morning with the brute force of sheer willpower. As I reached the end of my 30s, I learned that artificial assistance, in the form of a cup of coffee, was invaluable. In my early 40s, after giving birth to two children, I learned that artificial assistance, in the form of multiple cups of coffee, was critical.

As much as I adore seeing the beloved faces of my husband and my children in the morning, the sight that I most need to see when I first open my eyes (or attempt to get up without actually opening them) is this one.

You can see that they are literally calling my name.

Once I have filled them with the glorious nectar of the gods that is coffee, then I can face my beloved family. Once they have fulfilled their sacred duty of delivering their precious load of caffeine into my system, I can begin my day. They are merely vessels, but without them I could not possibly survive the morning.

Morning.

The Tale of a Reluctant Morning Person

I am writing this at 5:45am, having been up for an hour already. Technically, I've been awake for closer to two hours, but I only actually got out of bed an hour ago, when I heard the pitter-patter of little feet heading downstairs. My 4-year-old daughter is definitely a morning person. She routinely wakes up (and gets up) before the sun, happily chirping "Good morning!" to anyone and anything she sees as she skips through the house. She goes from sound asleep to wide awake and cheerful in about 2.5 seconds.

I, on the other hand, need closer to 2.5 hours. I am, one could say, a slow starter. I prefer to ease my way into the day, beginning by lying in my bed contemplating my own existence and thinking about the day ahead. Eventually I get around to sitting up and grabbing my Kindle, reading or playing games for a bit while I mentally prepare myself for human interaction. (Some would call this antisocial behavior; I call it a homicide prevention technique.) Finally, I'm ready to face - well, not the day, exactly, but at least the coffee maker. Once I've managed to bumble my way into the kitchen and through the coffeemaking process, THEN I'm ready to talk to people without fantasizing about their slow, painful deaths.

But every once in a while, when I am forced by circumstances out of my control (to wit: my 4-year-old) to be out of bed and moving around before sunrise, I try to make the most of it. Since neither of the other residents of my house are particularly morning people, either, I generally don't need to interact with anyone. (The 4-year-old doesn't count; she'll cheerfully hold a conversation with herself for hours, no need for me to talk to her.) Which means that I can sit quietly with my mug of coffee and simply contemplate the world around me.

This morning, I took the opportunity to watch the first glimmer of sunrise in the eastern sky.

The inky blackness of the sky above was pierced by two bright stars (planets? I'm not awake enough yet to consult a star chart, but the foggy recesses of my brain remind me that Venus is the morning star, so probably that, yeah), and the glow of the sun just past the horizon was beginning to highlight silhouettes of trees and houses.

As I continued to watch, the blue along the horizon began to spread higher adding the tiniest hints of pink and gold, dimming the glow of the bright stars and changing the blackness around me into the half-familiar shapes of my porch railing and the neighbor's fence.

That glimpse of pink and gold spurred me on to stay awake and watch for the rarely-seen (for me, anyway) glory of an autumn sunrise. I called my daughter outside to watch it with me, but after a few "Ooohs!" and "Aaaaahs!" she lost interest and pulled out of my arms to go back in the warm house and play with her dolls. I clutched my still-warm coffee mug instead, appreciating the contrast between my bare feet on the cold flagstones and my hands on the warm mug.

As I waited patiently (well, kind of patiently) for the sky to brighten, I became aware of the unusual quietness of the neighborhood, broken only by the whoosh of the occasional passing car. No chattering voices, no angry car horns, not even a barking dog or a bird calling to its mate. Not even the morning insect sounds of late summer.

I was able to let go of my own thoughts that had been frantically planning out the day ahead, and just enjoy the peace and serenity of being alone, with God's beautiful sky above me, His silent earth around me. Even as the world was waking and coming to life around me, ready to begin a new day, my soul was waking and coming to life.

I am ready for the new day!

But I think I'll have another cup of coffee first, just in case.

Oh, What a Beautiful Morning

I’m not a morning person, so it’s not often that I’m up at the crack of dawn by choice. But between my regular bouts of insomnia and having a young daughter who gets up at 5:30 or 6am every day, once in a while I choose to get up with the sun and enjoy the peace and quiet of the early morning before the demands of my daily schedule kick in.

When I’m up this early, I see things I don’t usually see, like the pink of the sunrise peeping over the horizon outside my kitchen window. Like the neighborhood bunny hopping languidly through the grass, enjoying his breakfast. Like the mourning doves strutting across the porch, gently hooting to each other. 

With the menfolk still asleep upstairs, I get to spend some uninterrupted time with my daughter, reading books together, chatting, or even just sleepily snuggling, with no other demands for my attention. I am reminded of how quickly she is growing up, and of how much she changes from month to month, week to week, and even day to day. These quiet mornings give me a chance to enjoy her exactly as she is in this particular moment, to focus completely on her without distractions. I am fascinated and amazed by this beautiful child that I helped create. I am reminded of what a blessing she is.

As much as I love words, sometimes a picture really is worth a thousand words, so instead of writing any more about the joys of early morning, I’ll share some images of those joys. 

 

Good morning!

 

Photo A Day, Day 12: On My Left

I don’t have a laptop computer, so close to 100% of my writing is done at my desk, in my office. And since the afternoon is when my son is allowed to have computer time, and the evening is when I usually get chores done around the house, the majority of my writing time at my desk happens in the morning. And as anyone who knows me or who follows my Facebook is well aware, it’s not really morning until I’ve had my coffee. So it’s not surprising that almost any time I am writing at my computer and I look to my left, I will see a sight similar to this one.

I was never a much of a coffee drinker until I was well into my 30s, and even then, I was more of a “social” coffee drinker: I would drink it when I was out for a meal with friends (more likely lunch or dinner than breakfast), or I’d grab a cup at work when I was heading for an afternoon meeting. But once I had children, coffee in the morning became a necessity.

Despite being a necessity, though, it feels like a little luxury, a little treat, a little indulgence. Instead of feeling like I can drag myself out of bed because I know there’s a cup of coffee waiting to get me going, I feel more like I want to get out of bed because there’s something wonderful waiting for me in the kitchen. And there’s always something wonderful waiting for me in my kitchen! Sometimes it’s my husband, sometimes it’s my kids, but always it’s my java.

It’s waiting there for me, right there on my left. 

The Java Jive

I didn’t drink coffee in high school. I didn’t drink coffee in college. I didn’t drink coffee at my first job. I started having a cup or two after meals out with my mom when I was in my late 20s, and in my early 30s I started having a cup at work in the afternoon now and then. I rarely had coffee in the morning until I was well into my 30s. When my son was born, I’d grab a cup every once in a while. But now that I have a toddler and a baby who both get up at 6:30am, I have a cup of coffee to start my morning every single day.

It’s the only way I’ve survived the last 7 months.

But as pragmatic as it was at first, it has now become a real pleasure. Our first Christmas together, I bought my now-husband-then-boyfriend a Keurig one-cup coffeemaker. He is not a coffee drinker but loves hot chocolate. And since I was planning on being in the picture permanently starting very soon, I knew that I would appreciate being able to brew myself a single cup now and then. I had no idea how crucial that machine would be to my entire existence in just a few short years. But the best part of the Keurig is not just its ability to brew a single cup – oh, no. It is its ability to brew a DIFFERENT single cup every morning.

Let me explain. I am a girly drinker in every possible way. I drink girly cocktails, and I drink girly coffee. My cocktails are either some shade of pastel with a sugared rim or include something in the chocolate, butterscotch, and/or cream families. My coffee has sugar, nearly as much cream as coffee, and is flavored. The more flavors I can try, the better. I recently discovered the magic that is a sampler K-cup pack from Amazon.com and I think I’m in love. Wolfgang Puck Crème Caramel, Timothy’s Kahlua, Green Mountain Southern Pecan, Donut House Collection Cinnamon Roll and Chocolate Glazed Donut, Gloria Jean’s Butter Toffee and Hazelnut. It’s a taste of heaven in a bunch of plastic Dixie cups.

And what’s even better is that some of the sampler packs don’t have a specific combination of flavors. You get whatever happens to be lurking around on packing day. It doesn’t seem to be the lousy flavors that nobody orders, either. You might get some cappuccino, you might get some iced coffee, you might get some decaf, you might get some “special edition” flavors like Spicy Eggnog or Gingerbread or Golden French Toast. You just never know. But it will all be glorious coffee, java, brew, joe, the best part of waking up, fill it to the rim, good to the last drop.

Coffee.

Ahhhhhhhhh.