– How I deal with not being a morning person in a world where you have to be up
Today is the 2nd of November, and I have a crazy October behind me. This time of year is especially hectic at work and this year even more so due to a lot of extra publications that we did not plan for. I am however grateful for a fantastic team who runs with it.
The Lilliputians have also demanded more of my attention at home, simply because they now get bored and have become expert little manipulators with the ability to get everything they want. I adore them but have to admit that by 7 am I have easily lost about nine arguments with tiny little versions of myself.
Interesting enough, the one is a morning person (heaven knows how the Engineer and I managed that) who has now taken up shouting in a sing-song voice “dis dag!!” (“it’s morning”) for the whole neighbourhood to hear at first sight of sunlight. I then swear, the Engineer to pulls something over his head and the culprit’s sister, more often than not, to grumble something incoherent and throw something at him.
I have written a lot about routine and planning and how this makes me feel like a grownup, but I have also learnt during October that as the seasons change, our rhythm also needs to adapt. This is a little hard for me because I am not a morning person. I have never been.
When I started working at Medpharm Publications, I had a tiny little office in the furthest corner. I warned my boss, who I adored, that I am not particularly user friendly in the morning and that even if I seem rude, I just need a little time to get over the fact that I have to be conscious. I could tell that he did not believe me. But as with all things, time would tell. I would walk in in the mornings past everyone’s offices and be greeted by a swarm of chirpy early risers who would get a grumble in return. This lasted for a few weeks and I started coming into the office a little earlier just to avoid this early morning chatter. I think I was employed for about three months when this kind understanding man came to my office and said that perhaps we just need to get me a sliding gate, I could walk in, lock myself in and then unlock it when I was fit for human consumption. Before the birth of the Lilliputians, the Engineer and I would actually go running before work, silently. We would have our first conversation at around 10 am that morning, the one phoning the other at our respective offices.
Of course, with the birth of the Lilliputians, this had to change. Little people apparently like early mornings and this was initially true for both of them. It soon became apparent that my daughter did not only inherit my eye colour, but also my lack of enthusiasm for seizing the day. My son, however… he just cannot seem to delay the start of another day for any reason. No more alarm clocks are needed in our house because we have this little social being who also does not like to do things alone.
So mornings already not being my favourite part of the day became quite traumatic with this invasion of my waking hours. I realised that I needed to make a plan. I needed to open my eyes before he did. I needed to plan a little ahead to make sure that every day did not start with me swearing at my dear, sweet boy. I simply could not start everyday wide awake; I need some time to check my vitals and remember my own name.
So some planning had to be done. I needed a morning routine that did not only involve falling out of bed, but allowed me to get things done before my day is invaded by motherhood.
Together with this problem, I realised that I simply could not exercise in the late afternoons anymore, little people needed me and the 30°Celcius days that we have may cause me to melt in my running shoes.
This change therefore came about with the new season. In the winter, I was able to get up early, while still dark and get a few things done in silence, while the coffee was brewing. This is however not the case with the sun rising at 5 am. I also realised that I needed a purpose to get me out of bed. At the end of September, a joined a pilates class. They start early enough that I actually have to get some work done before I leave for an hour of sweating. And on the other mornings I decided that I might as well embrace the sunshine and go for a run at first light. This has been working well for almost a month now. Monday, Tuesday and Thursday morning has me lacing up my running shoes. I find that it is great to have 2 km behind you when you actually wake up for the first time. Wednesday and Friday have me in the pilates studio by 7 am with about two hours of work already behind me.
I am also avoiding the morning rush by packing the lunches the night before. The Engineer and I are also taking turns with getting everyone to school in one piece. So I am doing that on the mornings that I go for a run. As soon as I get home, he is rushing out the door for his office and a little silence.
So in short, this is what October has taught me:
- If something is not working (like your day is starting in chaos every morning) you need to make a plan.
- If you cannot figure it out by yourself, ask the person who has been sharing your house and your life for more than 11 years for his input.
- Little people screaming at you first thing in the morning will ruin your whole day.
- Ticking a few things off the list before anybody else is awake is extremely gratifying.
- Even if you are not friendly first thing in the morning does not mean you cannot function first thing in the morning.
- Sometimes just paying for something and knowing that people are expecting you to be somewhere will make you show up.
- I have a powerful love-hate relationship with pilates.
- There is a lot to be said for having some time to yourself, even if you have to set an alarm clock for it.