I actually love to get up early.
As in 4 am early.
I realize most of you just shuddered at that thought, but it's a magical time in my house. I adore my family and love my job, but I am one of those people who needs to be alone at times. And so 4-6 a.m. is my coffee / blog / scrapbooking / photo editing time.
Except it seems that being an early bird is a genetic trait because my son also like to rise early.
He could easily be a rooster. I love the kid, but at 4:30 a.m. he belongs in bed, not hanging out with me. Yet it's becoming a trend.
The first night he pitter-pattered his way down the stairs he said it was because he "saw a light on." So I began to work on my computer under the cover of darkness.
The next night he said, "I tiptoed into your room and saw daddy sleeping, but your spot was empty." Score one for the kid having deductive reasoning skills, but boo-hiss on him crashing my private party.
The next morning I set up a "fake mommy." Much like a teenager sneaking out late at night, I rearranged my pillows under the blankets so that in a groggy glance it would appear I would be sleeping. He stated that he didn't even go into my room because he "smelled coffee" so he knew I was downstairs. It's like living with Sherlock Holmes.
Since I prefer iced coffee anyhow, I brewed it the night before so that no Starbucks aromas would waft their way through the vents and up to his room while he was sleeping. I was convinced that the fake pillow mommy and scent-free house would outsmart him, but alas he appeared in my darkened office doorway rubbing his groggy little eyes. He said, "I didn't hear snoring so I knew you were downstairs."
And that my friends is what we call adding insult to injury.
Happy weekend...regardless of what time you start your day!