5:30am

I wake up and the first thing I do is listen for cries.  Is Sweet Pea crying?  Usually the answer is yes but right at this moment, the answer is no.  Is Bugaboo yelling “I awake Mommy?”  No… not this morning.  I’ve either woken up on my own or my bladder, which after three babies always feels full, has sent a message to my brain to “empty”.  I roll over and look at the clock.  5:30 a.m.  I close my eyes again and measure how tired I am and note that I am as tired feeling as I always am and at this point in my motherhood life know I will always feel some semblance of tired.

I’m excited.  I get up, use the bathroom, don’t flush because I am not willing to wake anyone up, and slowly creep down the stairs.  The lights are off, it’s quiet and the sun is just beginning to light up the neighbourhood.

I turn on the computer and while it does whatever it needs to do before displaying the screen that allows me to hit the little “e” for the internet I make coffee. 

I’m excited because this is me time.  It is the only time of day where the house is quiet and I can sit at the computer, write, pay bills, answer emails and sometimes get a little bit of work done.  I allow myself until Bugaboo wakes up to do whatever the heck I want – in complete silence of course – which is usually about an hour.

My sister, who leaves for school around 6:30am on weekdays usually comes down sometime during that hour and gives me a pity look.  She worries that me being up this early means I haven’t slept well or the baby has kept me up.  Sometimes that’s exactly what it means, but until she is a mother she will never understand the sheer pleasure of having an hour of quiet to get something done that I actually want to and not necessarily need to do no matter what time the clock says.

Our kitchen table, where I like to sit with my laptop and look out window to the backyard is right under Bugaboo’s room.  As soon as I hear his feet hit the floor and what I’d like to call the pitter patter of his little feet but in his case is actually the thump thump thump of his footsteps towards his door, I know my time is over.  It’s now mayhem time, especially on school days.  We start with juice, choosing a tv program, making and/or finishing lunches, choosing what to have for breakfast which for my children is always a very big and difficult decision.  There is rushing around making sure all three kids are fed, dressed, teeth brushed, hair done and face washed.  Morning almost always brings mayhem.

I don’t always get up early.  Sometimes when I wake up I don’t have to listen for cries, I can hear them before I’m actually completely conscious, and the mayhem begins before I can even open my eyes.  On the mornings, like today when 5:30 am comes with silence and a desire to roll out of bed I consider myself lucky, despite what my sister may think.