Happy in the mornings? Not even a little bit.

I am not a morning person. Not at all. Not ever. Not even when I try. And yet, I wish I was a morning person. I wish it were easy for me to go to bed early so that I could wake up and get an early start to my day.

But then, when it is nighttime, and the children are all sleeping and everything is so quiet and peaceful... to go to bed means to end it all so that I can wake up the next morning and start all over.

It's not working for me though... the staying up late and sleeping in (let's maintain perspective... with four children sleeping in means sleeping until 7:15) until all the children are already awake and ready for breakfast...

What this means is that I fix breakfast and get Jordan off to school. Then I fold the load of laundry that's on the kitchen table, then I fix a Lego set, and take out the dog. Then I sweep the cheerios off the floor and vacuum the living room rug. Then I fix the computer game for Lucy, and then, realizing I forgot to eat breakfast myself I fix myself something to eat and sit down to check my email. After checking my email, I may, or may not decide to write a blog. Then I clean the bathroom, unstop the toilet, read a story, fix a snack for the kids, balance the checkbook, take the dog out again...

And then I look at the clock and realize that it's lunch time, I'm not dressed, I haven't exercised and there is only an hour or two left before I have to go and pick up Jordan. Once he's home, it's basically dinner time.

Perhaps I'm wrong in thinking that all this would be solved by getting up early. But I think it would. I mean really, all I want to do is take a shower, and, in a perfect world, exercise before the shower.

I've done this before. Once, for an entire summer, before I was pregnant with Henry, I got up at 5:40 every morning and went to the gym with a friend. I HAD to go, because she was going, and well, I couldn't be the wimp that didn't show up. So I went... even when I stayed up late the night before, I still went. Where oh where is my motivation? This morning, as I turned off my alarm clock at 6:05, my motivation quite successfully hid under my pillow, and stayed there, until Jordan, fully dressed came and woke me up at 7:15.

Good thing someone in this house is responsible.

I said to Josh as I stumbled over to the closet, "I really wish I could be a morning person... but I just love sleeping so much."

Sigh.

I think I need an intervention.

Do any of you get up early? Perhaps I need a thick skinned volunteer to call me every morning at 6AM, brave my expostulations and insults and yell at me until I get out of bed...