Mornings are Egg-Cellent: In Which I Use the F-Word

It's a good thing I'm a morning person. Back in the day (Before Children) I would get up before the sun, before my alarm clock, do a little yoga, eat some of yesterday's leftovers (my family was horrified, eating supper for breakfast???) watch the sun rise.

Mornings were so quiet. I realise now that what I liked best was the quiet and solitude. Then I had a child who was also a morning person. But quiet and solitary, not so much.

"Wake up, Eggward!" "I'm so ova you, Shelley!"
At one year old, Chas would spring up and greet the pre-dawn darkness with enormous enthusiasm. He'd be hungry, as I was, but he would Not. Shut. Up. I remember one morning, I had been out partying the night before (Something I soon gave up, as it clearly wasn't worth it), and about five minutes after my head hit the pillow Chas was bouncing around. I blearily took him to sit on the steps and look at the dawn, which would not happen for another hour. We ate toast or something. Chas jabbered about leaves and bugs and owls. He spoke early and A LOT, with a huge and impressive vocabulary. But love for my bright and bouncy child was eluding me that morning.

Suddenly, there was a pause in Chas' monologue. Perhaps he realised that I just wasn't that into it. He looked at me and said, "Mummy, it's dark!"

"Yes, Chas, it's very fucking dark."

Oooooh! A new descriptive word!!!

"It IS fucking dark, isn't it? Mummy, I think it's even fucking darker under those trees!" He went on and on, and I just sighed and steeled myself for the next few weeks. What do you do hey?

Fourteen years and two more boys later. I'm more with it, as I'm no longer the exhausted mother of babies. I am very careful of what I say. Sam is not a morning person at all at all... I can see his toes hanging off the bed from the kitchen and I call, "Wiggle your toes, sunshine, so I know you're not in a coma!"

One toe twitches slightly. It's a start. A minute later I go and remove his duvet and put it on another bed. He grunts. All this time, Chas will be chatting away and flipping pancakes... Owls and bugs have given way to terrible egg-related puns and complicated discussions about international news. "Are you going to the grocery? We need lots of white vinegar and baking soda!" Max tries to keep up, he's pretty savvy in the mornings. Sam eventually staggers into the kitchen and grunts again. He will warm up gradually. We sit together and talk and eat and make plans.

I love our mornings together, the breakfast banter, the hugs and 'have a good day, see you later!' One day I'll have my mornings back... but not too soon I hope!

Follow Things I've Found in Pockets on Facebook or Twitter for regular updates, anti-parenting advice and hilarity...


Unknown said…
I love mornings - sun streaming in through the windows and long shadows sit gently on the floor and walls. That is SO the best time of day.

I'll put a couple of slices of bread in the toaster (after I've started on my first cup of coffee), butter the holders in my egg poacher, crack open a couple of eggs and put them in the poacher, and then, when the toast pops up, quickly place the eggs in the microwave for 45 seconds and butter the toast before it gets cold. Set the toast on a plate and rescue the eggs from the microwave when the dinger goes off, put one egg on each piece of toast, sit on the couch in the morning sun, and enjoy.

Yah. That's my kind of morning.
Islandgirl said…
I am remembering the famous "F" word chorus from 4 small boys in the back seat of my car on Preysal bridge one happy Friday afternoon and how hard Stef and I tied not to pee ourselves laughing! In fact we tried very hard not to laugh at all but to keep calm focus attention on the road while saying "Now boys..why don't we try singing something like "Oh Shucks" and see how it sounds! hahaha
Nan Sheppard said…
Lou, that sounds lovely! Sharon, it's a wonder our kids grew up to be normal well-behaved boys, with mothers like us! We're lucky I think :)
Anonymous said…
What funny opposite children you have!
aclare said…
It wasn't the fact she was eating dinner for breakfast. It was the fact that the breakfast ALWAYS looked the same! We named it gung, as it was always grey and gooey. Whatever it was!