I admit, I’ve never been a “night owl” and I’ve certainly never been a “morning person.” I’ve always just sorta been one of those people that really enjoys sleep. Sure, I’ve been known to pull all-nighters when the party is right (even though I secretly couldn’t wait to get home to my pillow) and I’m generally the first to wake every morning (not that that says much, I live with 3 teenagers and a 2 year old.) I was the first person to
fall asleep pass out at my 33rd birthday party and I was definitely not the first person rise the next morning.
I remember asking my mom how she could wake up so early every single day (even on the weekends!) when she would sometimes stay up very late waiting for us to get home, taking care of my dad, sewing, or working on a crafty project that she’s known to do (and well at that!) She explained to me that one day when I have a family of my own, responsibilities, stress, a job, a household to run, children to feed, and a dog to keep up with that I would understand. In a nutshell, when you’re the mother of chaos, those first couple of hours in the morning, before God Himself has awoken, that’s when you get your “me” time. She has nobody to take care, nobody to pester her, nothing to do in the world except whatever it is in the world she wants to do. I always figured I’d just want more sleep. I was wrong.
When I was growing up, my sister, brother and I would leave a note by the coffee pot for my mother if there was something we needed her to take care of for us before we woke up. It was usually to ask her to wake us up early, iron a shirt, sign papers for school, etc. It was known that the coffee pot was the first place Mom would go to in the morning and that’s where we would leave the important stuff for her.
My kids starting leaving notes for me on the front door. In my house, it’s known that I wake up, go to the fridge and grab a cold Coke in the can. (Cherry Coke Zero now, but whatevs, I’m getting older and watching my girlie figure.) I then go outside to the courtyard to begin the “waking up” process. I like to sit there for about 20 minutes, listen to the birds and check my e-mail & social network sites on my phone or just stare off into space. It seems Mom was correct (really, when is she not?) about my morning me time.
I look forward to the notes my kids leave me. They are witty and clever and almost always end with an “I love you.” (Although sometimes there is a hard core request in there like, “Can you do my Biology project for me and drop it at school before 3rd period?” Huh?!) But they are usually the same kind of requests we gave Mom when we were kids. Lately though, I’ve noticed the kids are leaving fewer notes on the door and that makes me a little sad. It’s like the reverse of leaving notes in my kids’ lunch boxes as they got older. I’ve noticed a trend among my 3 musketeers where they hand write fewer notes and are now leaving their requests on my Facebook.
It’s not like I don’t still get the note in the morning, it’s just… different. The letter in their own handwriting is more personal and savable. I know nothing on Facebook ever gets lost and I can always refer back to it (if I can find it again) but there is just something so much sweeter when they have taken the time to put it to paper. REAL paper.
I asked my kids, “What gives? Why no more notes on the front door?”
To which they replied,
“The door, your FB wall, what’s the diff?”
Nothing, I guess. I still get the “thank yous” and “I love yous” and that’s all that really matters to me.