Avie is starting pre-school next week and it’s killing me. Not in an “oh no, my baby is growing up” way, but in a “oh no, I have to wake up earlier” way.
So just for those who don’t know, our schedule is slightly shifted back from the “norm”. While my kids sleep until 8 or 9 in the morning, we don’t eat dinner until 7 at night. There are pros and cons to every schedule. Here’s the deal though. Avie’s school starts at 8:30. So, you do the math. Getting up between 8 and 9 just ain’t gonna to cut it. BUT, I’ve been practicing. Sort of. I’ve moved my alarm clock across the room and set it for 8am. And for the past 2-3 weeks, I’ve been getting up when it goes off and then getting ready, because I’ve always heard that getting up before your kids makes for a much happier mama. I’m not sure which is worse, though. Getting up early, or being woken by your children. Pretty sure just waking up at all is the problem.
I digress. Getting up at 8am is going… ok. I hate it every morning. But I like the fact that I actually get stuff done from time to time now. And then my entire afternoon is shot. I take a nap almost every day to make up for it. Because, try as we might, going to bed before midnight is just not happening. It’s not really Ansen’s fault, but he doesn’t have to get up at 8am and wouldn’t choose to any more than myself. If either of us want alone time, or project time, or just to watch a show or movie, it’s got to be after bedtime. And bedtime can only be so early, seeing as how dinner is so late, or we eat without daddy, which is not really an option for me.
Now, next week, when school actually starts, I have to be ready by 8… not just awake… if I want to have any chance of getting Avie up and ready. She is fighting this new routine of getting up, dressed and eating before noon, tooth and nail. It’s not even that she’s not awake, but that she simply would rather play or do other things than the things I’ve asked of her. You know, like, “put your clothes on. And no, a swim suit doesn’t count. You can’t just wear a shirt with no pants. Please dress yourself before you dress that Barbie. I’m sorry, but pantyhose do not count as pants. For the love, just put on the dress you picked out last night.” Which we do, by the way. Every night. And somehow, every morning, it was the worst decision she’s ever made.
Schedule changes are just not fun. But we’ll get through them. And maybe someday, when she starts elementary school, we might be morning people. Oh, who am I kidding. I’m going to be 75 going to bed a midnight and waking up sometime near noon.