Wednesday, 3 September 2014

Not a Morning Person

My eyes this morning open like those of a newly-born kitten - reluctantly, slowly and never quite all the way. The gurgling I'd initially heard through the monitor has become an insistent call for immediate attention.

I notice the absence of other raised voices and realise that I've been let off my morning school lunch making duties. I offer a silent prayer of thanks for a husband who clearly remembered our conversation about leftover chicken drumsticks and jam sandwich requests.

I'm not a morning person. Never have been. And this roller-coaster of broken sleep called motherhood has done nothing but cement in my mind the luxury that is surrendering oneself to the peaceful world of dreams. A luxury I don't experience nearly often enough.

Surprisingly, it is possible to navigate the length of our house with my eyes all but closed. Perhaps, because I've tracked this journey so many times in the middle of the night, my mind and body know the trail instinctively.

My half functioning brain completes the morning ritual of cuddles, "Morning, my baby" mutterings and nappy changes while hatching a cunning plan. 

"Wanna come snuggle in Mummy's bed?" I ask the curly haired angel in my arms.

"Narnars bed" he repeats (I'm Narnar in Rohan-ese) and I rush back to the warmth of my comfortable, enormous bed where we snuggle in - me in my perfectly moulded pillow, he on "Dada's side". I tuck the layers of bedding up and under our chins, being sure to include the small stuffed monkey that is his special friend. Kima. Which is Swahili for 'little monkey'. Who in Rohan-ese is 'Mama'. Yep, I've lost out naming rights to a monkey.

I close my eyes and hope that this will be the morning he'll lie still, that this will be the morning my poor weary soul gets a little more shut eye.

No such luck.

"Roar match," he says.

"Shhhhhh," I soothe, subconsciously knowing my attempts are in vain.

"Roar match." He's more insistent now, throwing off the covers with an enthusiasm I've rarely felt in my long years of restless, broken sleep and midnight feeds.

"Ok, baby." He climbs hurriedly off the bed and disappears for the time required to run to the playroom and return laden down with a basket filled with his favourite Mesozoic creatures.

My eyes are fully open now. As weary as if I'd been awake all night, though I'm sure I slept fairly soundly. The refreshing benefits of a good nights sleep seem only to be lost to the backlog of deficit that needs to be repaid.  

My day has begun and in spite of my dreams of additional slumber, I am grateful to be able to wake up to this sweet little boy. To have the time to interact with him, excite his imagination and imagine him grown - perhaps a successful, widely published Palaeontologist, telling stories of how it was his Narnar who taught him the names of all his beloved dinosaurs and that he remembers those mornings as I do, the most precious bleary-eyed moments of my life.
 Hoping your day is a Roar-ing success. (See what I did there? Man, I'm tired) x


  1. I once was a morning person, but now my dream is to sneak back to bed or remain in there till 10am! I too will have a Palaeontolgist one day! :) Deb

    1. I got a rare (probably one time only!) treat of checking into a hotel a few weeks ago, Deb. By myself. At first it was weird, but then I got to sleep all night! Then, after getting up to pee, I went back to sleep for another 2 hours! Bliss. S : )

  2. I am sooo not a morning person either - usually my kids drag me out of bed by the toes while simultaneously shrieking about being late for school. I've been a bit more organised this week tho - getting to bed earlier and getting up earlier in the morning so it's not such a rush. It's nice not getting up to the kids' self-help breakfast mess!

    1. Yep, I think I need to try to get to bed earlier too, Emma. Though, that precious all-the-kids-asleep time is hard to say no to! S

  3. I am not a morning person either. It makes mothering so hard. I love this little story of yours. You write so beautifully. I'd love to know more about the Swahili side to this story. You lost your naming rights? It all sounds so interesting.
    Thank you for sharing this with #thankfulthursday. I am sure that many enjoyed it. xS

    1. Hi Sarah, Thank you for the linkup! We chose to call his monkey "Kima" because it's Swahili for "little monkey" (did you know that Simba is Swahili for Lion?) Unfortunately he can only pronounce it as "mama" and he calls me "nar nar" instead of mama. I actually kind of love it. It's nice to have a special name from my baby. xx


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