You know, those birds of a feather that flock together and rise from their slumber an hour before the children to do their morning devotions, exercise, and plan out the day. Those amazing mother hens who manage to prep dinner and get in a shower before gently shaking the kids awake.
I am done with the pressure.
I’m not going to hen peck myself any longer.
This owl is finally giving up her quest to join the roosters and is finally admitting that one bird is not necessarily better than the other – as I always assumed. For doesn’t it seem that the night owl always gets the rebuke over the early bird who is praised for being so industrious at dawn?
Waking early has some sort of badge of honor attached to it. There is an awe that surrounds the early riser. And while I do admire the commitment and discipline it takes to rise before the sun, I’m not going to lay the guilt on myself any longer for failing to wake at the crack of dawn.
For here I sit, at 9:00 AM, having woken at the respectable hour of 7:15. I made the kids an awesome breakfast at 7:30, put some laundry in, made my bed, and am dressed for my morning workout. Sure I could have done all this an hour earlier, but, why? Perhaps I’ll need to do so when my kids begin high school and have to be up and out earlier, but, for now? Why?
Rewind to last night. I had a surge of energy around 7:30 PM, at which time, I helped both kids straighten their bedrooms, and then snuggled in bed to read with them before heading downstairs to do some planning for Zane’s birthday, write a piece for The Bridge, and make a list of “to do’s” for the first Monday after winter break. Then, I hopped in bed around 12:30 AM and read for a little bit before dozing off.
So really, why must I continue my failed attempts at defecting to the likes of the roosters? Why must there be this competition in my mind between night owls and roosters/early birds?
Why must I harbor this pressure when my clock that seems to be working just fine?
I have a dear friend who is down for the count by 9:00 PM. And this is NOT just because she is a busy wife and mother who also holds down a job during the day. Nope. She was like this in college also, hopping into bed by 9:30 PM while the rest of the floor in our dorm continued on into the night for hours.
This works for her, and my night owl clock works for me.
So go ahead and get your worm, or whatever, and cockle-doodle-doo your vocal chords to oblivion every morning. I’ll gladly embrace the night shift in our house and will celebrate the productivity that unleashes itself within me while the sun dozes.