I have insomnia. I can’t sleep. I try, believe me. I listen to soft music, take hot baths, drink warm milk, and visualize sandy beaches with gentle waves and seagulls singing (or whatever they do). No matter what I do, my brain just does not want to shut off. It’s afraid it’ll miss something. I don’t know what it would miss at 3 a.m., but the fear is real.
Truth is, I’m not really complaining about the lack of sleep. I’ve sort of grown used to it. Sleep deprivation is not my biggest nightmare. You want to know what is? Waking up my kids!
Actually, one of them is in college, so whether or not she wakes up is her business. One is a Senior in high school and long ago I told him that if he did not set his alarm and he missed school, he could just stay home and work at McDonald’s for the rest of his life (no offense to Mickey D workers). But, I still have one that is too young too leave to her own devices or to threaten with real world consequences (however exaggerated they may be). And she knows this. She sets her alarm and then sleeps through the blaring Taylor Swift hits of the day.
I have tried it all. You name the method or kid waking gimmick and I have tried it. I almost ordered that CD from the radio for problem kids, but that seemed extreme. And costly. I have tried the nice Dad approach. You know, where you tip toe into the room and whisper, “wake up sweetie” accompanied by a gentle tickle and some obnoxious fatherly bed shaking. I have tried being the pragmatic Dad, overstating just how hard it would be to have to repeat the fourth grade in light of the forthcoming 15th truancy (or 38th tardy, whichever comes first). I have tried doing the angry Dad thing, lowering my voice a few octaves and then saying only, “get up now.” I have tried being the emotional Dad, pleading and crying. Seriously… once I cried.
It’s not that she doesn’t get up. She gets up. Eventually. But… then she’s, well… she’s NOT a “morning person.” The whole process has become a bit scary. The other morning there was so much foot stomping, throwing things, eye rolling, spitting, and cursing under the breath that my wife had to tell me to stop it already. I really am out of control. I even told my little girl yesterday that I was going to quit my job and home school her. What, what?
Truthfully, what she does is normal. My other kids did it and I did the same to my Mom. Someday we’ll look back at all this and laugh. Please, oh please let that day be tomorrow.
I love my little girl with all my heart. Although LOVE is not that word that comes to mind when we have less than three minutes to get to school and we live seven minutes away.
Life is hard, but mornings are harder. If mornings could just start in the afternoon, things would be great. Things would be swell for both me and my little night owl. No… the apple does not fall far from the tree at all. Sometimes, it lands right NEXT to it.
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
When I was your daughter’s age, my dad would SING me awake. And I’m not talking about happy-sing-song-sweet melodies. The true obnoxiousness of his song can’t be expressed in typed words. He would cheerfully march (literally marching) into my room, belting out at the top of his lungs, while clapping his hands–”GET YOUR HEAD OUTTA BED AND GET YOUR FEET ON THE FLOOR.” He sounded SO happy and he’d continue to march and sing, march and sing. THAT would put me in a bad mood, but I’d get up because it would make him stop and I was jolted awake anyhow. Even today, when he does that song the irritation creeps up my spine. But I love him, and its good memories. And I will probably do it to my own kids. = )
Didn’t have it too bad with my kids, but my husband. I didn’t realize how bad things were until I got a letter wanting me to appear in court becuase my daughter was tardy 14 days in one month.
Oh, Paul is much better now, but it took about 24 years.