I used the to hate alarm clocks until I had kids. At least alarm clocks can be silenced; kids don’t have a button that allows you an extra five minutes to gather yourself before they rush you from bed. I’m not a morning person: I like to ease myself into the day. It takes about half an hour and a heavy duty crane to extract me from my bed. I don’t like when people are cheery in the morning. I don’t like when people ask me questions before coffee. It will always be a mystery to me how people are able to be affable without caffeine in their system.
So I really don’t understand why kids don’t have a coming round period when they open their eyes. Their eyes flip open like the the lid of my lighter on a bad day. They don’t have a state of semi-conscious. They are immediately animated and expect the same level of involvement from you.
I am usually awoken by a finger in my eye and the words “Mummy’s eye.”
“Yes, Mummy has eyes, I think. Can’t open them though,” I respond.
“Oh, Mummy,” they laugh, as if I’m a doddery old fool.
I feel like saying “Don’t speak to me until I’ve had coffee.” Instead I try to force a smile and give the shortest possible answer to questions.
I ‘m ushered into the kitchen, followed by a barrage of questions.
“Mummy, I have Weetabix? Mummy, I get dressed? Mummy, I go nanny’s house?”
I feel like shouting “For the love of Christ, let me wake up first.” I work hard to suppress it.
Being on the receiving end of a stream of questions isn’t the best way to greet your day, but unexplained crying fits are worse. (From them, not me.)
I don’t understand when the day commences with a tantrum when nothing has even happened yet. Not just nothing bad, but nothing good has happened either,because we have literally just woken up. If anyone listened to me I’d definitely enforce a no crying before coffee rule. At least after coffee I’ve reached a level of consciousness at which I can almost handle it.