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!

 

Priceless Stuff I Love

I’ve blogged recently about inexpensive things that I love and about expensive things that I love. But today, I want to write about things that I love that you can’t possibly put a price tag on.

Fuzzy Baby Heads

My youngest has finally outgrown that marvelous “fuzzy baby head” stage. But when she and my son were infants, there was nothing in the world I loved better than to rub my face against that amazingly soft, downy, peach fuzz on their heads and inhale that clean, sweet, Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo smell. Nothing in the world can compare to the innocent perfection of fuzzy baby head smell.

Morning Snuggles

I am one of those people who takes quite a bit of time to wake up in the morning. I don’t go from 0 to 60 in 10 seconds; I need a full 30 minutes before I become coherent, never mind fully awake. But during that prolonged half-asleep, half-awake time in the early morning, there is nothing I love better than snuggling with my toasty warm husband. We don’t chat, we don’t communicate, we don’t plan our day, we just snuggle. There’s no better way to wake up.

Ice cold cocktails

I’m not a big drinker, but I do like a good cocktail before dinner now and then. And there’s nothing quite as satisfying (especially on a hot summer evening) as a perfectly chilled drink with condensation running down the side of the glass and a few ice chips floating alongside the garnish. So refreshing!

Finding “your” jeans

Every woman’s body is different, so every woman’s “perfectly fitting jeans” are different. It may take years to find the perfect pair of jeans for your body. I didn’t find mine until I was in my 30s: Gloria Vanderbilts. I can buy them without trying them on and still know they’ll be well-fitting, comfortable, and flattering. I’d willingly pay hundreds of dollars for jeans like that, but since I get them at Costco, they’re a cool $19.99 – in other words, priceless.

A beautiful sunrise 

No camera can truly capture the beauty of a perfect sunrise. So on the rare occasion that I see one, I save it in my memory instead of (or at least as well as) on a memory card. Not being a morning person, my sunrises are pretty rare. So I remember most of the ones I’ve seen – from a porch in Iowa, over a river in Zimbabwe, across the Serengeti Plain in Kenya, off a fire escape in Medford MA, and over the railing of a cruise ship somewhere in the Caribbean. Each one is a treasured memory.

That Look

You know, the one you get from your spouse or significant other now and then that sends chills up your spine, puts butterflies in your stomach, and just generally makes you feel like a million bucks? Yeah, THAT Look. I love That Look. It’s great when it’s in the middle of a special moment, like a slow dance or a proposal or a wedding, but it’s even better when it’s just caught across the room in the middle of a party or when you walk in the door after a long day of work or when you first wake up in the morning. You can’t put a price tag on That Look.

The Right Sing-Along-in-the-Car Song

You know how every once in a while, you turn on your car radio and the perfect song is playing for the mood you’re in? A song that you just can’t help singing along with no matter whether you’re on your way to the grocery store, to work, or to a funeral. So you just belt it out, adding in air guitar and air drum as required. Maybe it’s Bohemian Rhapsody, maybe it’s La Via Boheme, maybe it’s something from La Boheme, maybe it’s Bohemian Like You (yeah, I found that last one on Google. I was going to listen to it but I read the first sentence describing the video and decided that probably wasn’t the best idea. But based on that alone I think it’s safe to assume that it’s VERY different from the other three songs in this list). But be it pop, Broadway, opera, or alternative rock, everyone has at least one song that speaks to their heart, and that they can’t help singing along with. (For the record, mine include Brick House by the Commodores, Play That Funky Music White Boy by Wild Cherry, Never from “On the Twentieth Century” by Comden and Green, and Voi Che Sapete from Mozart’s “Nozze di Figaro.” Oh, and Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. Duh.).

Walking through falling snow

I love the muffled near-silence of being in a snowstorm. I love the squeak and creak of fresh snow underfoot. I love the cold, prickly feel of snowflakes on my cheeks and nose. I love the way the whiteness of the snow covers all the dirt and imperfections of the world around. I love the startling coldness of inhaling the frigid air and the moist warmth of exhaling into my scarf.

Opening a new box of crayons

This is a love I had forgotten but rediscovered when I had kids. In fact, I probably value it more now that I have kids, because my kids are brutal on crayons. A box as perfect and pristine as the box above has a life expectancy of about half a second in my house. Each crayon perfectly sharpened. All properly dressed in their paper wrappers. All standing in perfect rows like soldiers on parade. None broken, none missing. All eagerly waiting to erupt onto paper in the form of beautiful artwork. Yellow waiting to become the sun, blue the sky, green the grass, red a smiling mouth, brown a barking dog, white a fluffy cloud. So much perfect potential, all wrapped up neatly in a little yellow box.

A kiss

A kiss from someone you care about, and who cares about you, is the best thing in the world. It can be the kiss of a lover, a friend, a child (yours or someone else’s), a parent, even a pet. A kiss reminds you that you are not alone in this world. Now that’s what I call priceless.