Our youngest is a morning person. This either means that I had an affair with a morning person or she is actually an alien who was transplanted in my uterus. I have no idea which.
She wakes up when The Husband gets up for work every morning (5 a.m.) and refuses to go back to sleep. She isn't fussy or mad, like I am at 5 a.m. however. She's chipper. She's happy and giggly and rambunctious. She doesn't want to sit alone in her crib, because, hello! Obviously it's time to rise and SHINE! Or else.
So, I bring her to bed with me. I try to get her back to sleep by cuddling. She usually puts up with this for about 14 seconds, then she wants to climb on my head. Mostly I don't mind this part, because I can sleep through almost anything.
After she sits on my head for a few minutes, she's ready to start moving. She begins by crawling up to the head of the bed. There, she beats on the headboard, sings to herself and tries to grab my curtains. A month ago that bothered me, now the sun agrees with me and has decided not to come out of hiding until much later.
After a few minutes of that, she decides to pull my hair. This is an exercise worthy of thousands of hours of entertainment value. I have a problem with having my hair pulled. I can't quite explain it but I would much rather you break my arm than pull my hair. It triggers some sort of adrenaline response in me whereby I turn green and huge and tear up my jammies and speak with bad English. And I like my jammies.
Finally, she moves on to her final morning exercise. This one requires a little coordination and a lot of prayers. Shutting the bedroom door. She hasn't mastered it yet, but she is determined to do it. She crawls swiftly and surely to the end of the bed, looks over her shoulder to ensure mommy's eyes are at least half closed and reaches, reaches, reaches for the doorknob. It's just out of reach. She adjusts and reaches again. Adjusts and reaches again. One final check with mommy and she props one leg up on the footboard and reaches, reaches... FAIL. She falls to the floor and screams.
It is my sole job between 5 and 6:30 a.m. (my normal time of rising) to not scream, not scream, and keep her falling. It's a full time job. I couldn't get anything else done if I was at the top of my game. But seeing as how this starts at 5, well, I'm not at the top of my game. I'm still trying desperately to sleep.
The funny thing is, I was going through Brynna's baby book the other night and found a note in there about Brynna being a morning person. So, apparently, the demon child who won't rise from bed started out much the same way. Perhaps there is hope for us all. Perhaps one day, my children will not want to get up too early, but be willing to get up when it's time.
Or maybe that's when I should worry about the aliens.