This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!
Getting up in the morning is hard. I’m not a morning person until I’ve had a little caffeine injected into my system, and so when my alarm goes off, I’m a snoozer. Like, not once, or even twice. I usually snooze about 5 times, and even then, on occasion I accidentally turn it off and I’m terribly late. And as I (annoy the mess out of my husband as I) snooze, my mind is slowly going through the five stages of grief, because when my alarm goes off, getting out of bed feels like a tragedy. Here’s my thought process as my alarm goes off again and again.
- Denial. No way. It can’t be time already. Wasn’t I just brushing my teeth and getting in bed? Wait, wasn’t I up with the baby some time during the night? I haven’t slept at all. I don’t really have to get up. I’ve got my days confused. It’s Saturday, right? No one really needs me to do anything today. Maybe Hubby will get up. I’m not getting up. It’s not necessary to get out of bed.
- Anger. Ugh, I HATE the sound of my alarm! I should not have to get up right now. If somebody else could just get up and do what needs to be done instead of me, that’d be great. I always do everything myself, and DANGIT! I deserve to stay in the bed! Mornings are stupid. Everyone should sleep later. School shouldn’t start so early. Jobs shouldn’t start so early, either! And children should sleep later! Ugh! I HATE MORNINGS.
- Bargaining. Hey, pst, Hubby. Could you get up and get the kids ready for school? Oh, you worked late last night? Oh yeah. Well, I’ll let you nap today if you let me sleep in a little longer. Please? I just need a few more minutes. If you feed them breakfast and get them ready for school, you can go back to bed while I take them. Just let me sleep a little longer. Please? Sweetie? I should probably just call in sick; my kids will understand.
- Depression. I just can’t make myself get up. There’s no real reason. I just wish I had gone to bed earlier, and then maybe I could get up. I want to be productive, but I just can’t. My alarm sounds so sad, like it doesn’t want to wake me. It makes me cry. Every time I think about getting out of bed, I just get too sad. I’m calling in sick. It’s not like anyone else in my house wants to get up, either.
- Acceptance. Okay. (Heave an annoying loud sigh.) Fine. I’m getting up.
The morning struggle is real. It’s not just all in my mind, right?