I’m not a morning person.
I prefer to wake up on my own, without an alarm or a commitment. And then I want to wake up slowly … and quietly. I’m an extrovert most of the rest of the day, but I like to have mornings to myself. I especially don’t want the TV on. Motherhood has thrown much of this out the window, yet I fought to hold on anyway.
My daughter is much like me in the mornings. She likes to cuddle quietly and gradually wake up. She’s much more pleasant when she wakes up on her own, even if the time isn’t that different from when I’d wake her up for school.
And then there is my son. Ben is loud and ready for much activity the moment he steps out of bed. He’ll wander to our bed and find his way into our bed, beside me if Greg’s already left for the office. And he’s quiet for about two minutes.
Then he wants to talk. And wrestle. And have you tickle him. And hide under the blankets. He laughs and tells stories. He urges me to get up and get him something to drink.
Admittedly, I can be annoyed by this. He crashes my introverted morning ways.
But this morning I was laying in bed, snuggling with him while he talked about Vacation Bible School last night. I thought about how I chewed him out for peeing in his pants, again. I thought about how I can be harsh and how I need to speak more gently to him so I don’t squash his big, bold spirit.
He’s like the joy that comes in the morning.
My words were harsh the night before. Ben often gets out of bed with tons of excuses that are only procrastination strategies. He’s afraid he’ll miss something. He thinks of another song to sing or story to tell.
Many evenings I’m weary and thankful bedtime has come. Even on the best of days, bedtime is welcome. My kids are generally good kids. Yes, they talk much, ask many questions, like to be on the go, argue with each other and then hug in the same moment, want to know what’s happening next, and stretch me emotionally. But it’s me who is ready for bedtime. Perhaps as the day ends I shift back to introverted ways.
But God doesn’t leave me that way. The morning brings joy. For me, joy’s name is Ben, and he likes to come to my bed about 6:40 each morning.
I’m linking up with Jen Ferguson’s Soli Deo Gloria party, where encouragement abounds, as well as Jennifer Dukes Lee and other storytellers for #TellHisStory.
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Loved your story about your Ben, Kristin. I have a Ben, too. My middle of three sons, now all grown and living far away 🙁 and I miss them: the loud, the mess, the interruptions, the sleepless nights, all their friends and all the spontaneous shows of love for their mama in a thousand different ways. Here's to releasing control and enjoying all the moments as they come 🙂 Thanks for stopping by Longings End and I am glad you benefited from that post. Blessings to you and your precious family!
Part of the reason I believe God wants us to adopt a third child is my Ben has a middle-child personality. I think he's meant to be both a younger brother and an older brother. Boys certainly have their own ways of expressing love. Thank you for stopping by my place.
What a precious story. Momma's catch the holy in their children even among the frustration. My daughters were morning people, too, and so I wrote from 4 to 6 each morning to catch some quiet.
That's early, Pamela! 🙂 I'm sure your dedication getting up early paid off. I haven't gotten there yet!