Wake Up Call

I realized this morning that I’ve taken something for granted for years.

My girls are very easy to wake up in the mornings. I walk into their room, touch Alyssa gently on the arm or the cheek (face, not butt) and tell her softly that it’s about time to get up.

By the time I’ve kissed Olivia and rubbed her hair back from her face, Alyssa has climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

I know, right? Will it get harder as they get older?

I used to think so but now I wonder. I wonder if because they’ve always been crappy sleepers (to be fair, at eleven Alyssa no longer wakes me up in the night. Olivia, at seven, isn’t so kind) they just like to be awake and so when it’s time to get up, even if they have to be woken up, they don’t mind.

Alyssa does sometimes have grumpy mornings but she is my daughter, so this doesn’t surprise me.

But the jumping out of bed at 6am every morning, even on the weekends, does surprise me. I have never been a morning person and so raising children who embrace the morning, who love to get up and start their day before the sun even rises perplexes me.

But even perplexed I’m aware enough to be grateful that I’m not yelling at two kids each morning, screaming for them to get out of bed and get downstairs to eat breakfast.

I might whine at them a little at night to get them to go to sleep but I’ll take that over morning scream-sessions any day.