This morning started too early for me. My alarm (my first alarm) goes off at 5:40. I turned it off and snooze for ten minute which is when the next alarm goes off. Then, I turn that one off and snooze for twenty minutes until my third and final alarm goes off at 6:10.
I know that sort of thing makes some people crazy. I get that. I know there are snoozers and non-snoozers in this world and the non-snoozers just don’t get why wouldn’t just set one alarm for 6:10 and get up when that alarm goes off if I know that’s when I’m going to get up anyway.
I can’t explain it but that first alarm is like a little nudge, letting me know that it’s almost time to get up. It lets me know that I have a half hour to sleep more. I NEED to know that. I need to have that slow slide into waking up, not the sudden wake up that I have to face when the alarm goes off at 6:10 and it really is truly time to get up now.
Anyway, three minutes after the first alarm when off this morning Olivia murmured, “Mom?”
I ignored her because, well, I’m a terrible mother. Two seconds later she half-shouted, “Mom!”
I muttered, “What?”
She requested, “I need more blankets. Please fix my blankets and get me another one.”
So I trudged to her bed, fixed her blankets, pulled another one on top of her and told her to sleep fast because it would be time to get up soon but not yet, so yeah…GO BACK TO SLEEP.
Then, two minutes before the next alarm was set to go off, Tom arrived at the bedroom door (he’s an obnoxiously early riser, that man) with my phone. He declared in his regular, non-whispering voice, “You left this downstairs. It rang. There’s a two-hour delay.”
Olivia popped up on her bed and asked, “What?!”
I ignored her again, whispered to Tom, “Thanks for bringing my phone. It wasn’t left down there on accident. It was charging.”
For some reason, it was important that I tell him I had left my phone downstairs on purpose. Whatever, let’s remember it was before 6am.
Olivia wasn’t about to be ignored, so she catapulted out of bed, came to my bed and patted my face. “What did Dad say?” she whispered. She gets her morning manners from me.
I asked her, “What do you think he said.”
She sniffed and put her face next to mine, waiting…she knew I’d finally get up and tell her.
“Do you think he said that there’s a two-hour delay?” I finally whispered, knowing that damned second alarm was going to go off any second now.
She gave a happy little snort and asked me to tuck her back into bed.
I walked her back to her bed…again. I tucked her into bed, again and I made my way back to my bed…again. That is when the second alarm went off.
“What’s that?” Olivia wanted to know.
“Just the second alarm,” I muttered. “It’s not time to get up. You can sleep for another hour if you wants since there’s a delay.”
“A delay?” Alyssa asked from her perch in the top bunk.
I rolled my tired eyes. “Yep, a delay. Go to sleep, you weirdos!”
They both laughed at me as I tried to grab those last nineteen minutes of sleep before that third and final alarm went off.
When it did go off both girls bounded out of bed. They get their early-morning cheer from their dad.
I lumbered down to the bathroom where I was promptly joined by Olivia; nothing better than starting your day with an audience while you do your morning business.
Even though the kids had a two-hour delay, I was still expected to be at work by 8. Tell me again why I changed my major from second education in October of my fifth year at IU? Oh yeah, I don’t like other people’s kids. Except your kids, of course I like your kids…
The fog really was pretty horrible. By the time I got to work (at 7:58 for anyone keeping track) I figured we’d be getting the call/text soon letting us know that school was closed.
And what do you know, I was right. I love it when I’m right, even when there’s no one around to whom I can crow about being right, I love being right.
And I just know Tom and the girls are having a fabulous, fun, fog day on this lovely, gray Friday.