I know why my mom got up every day at 4:30 a.m. when I was growing up. I used to believe that it took her that long to make breakfast for my dad and get herself ready for work. She once told me that mornings were her special time when she could sit down and actually read a book or magazine. Sometimes she even watched a cooking show on TV.
I understand now, Mom!
I don’t get up at 4:30 a.m. if I can avoid it, but I’m still the first one up at my house every day. I’m usually driving to work as the sun rises, but my days off are a different story.
Early mornings on my days off are a time of bliss that I savor. Everyone is still asleep, and the house is silent. I can sip my coffee in peace, write a little, catch up on some reading, pay some bills, and just relax. Taco is content to curl up in his bed beside my desk once he’s had some food and a trip outside. The morning light beams through my study window catching the prism on my sun catcher and throwing rainbows around the room. Yes, I understand now.
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I love my family, but my house isn’t exactly a mansion with separate wings where we all have space and privacy. I have a three bedroom home with just under 1500 square feet at the top of a hill. I live in a middle class neighborhood where most of us work regular jobs and try to raise our kids to be good people.
My house isn’t spacious, but it’s mine and I’m proud of it. My husband and I work very hard to pay for our house and keep it maintained. I could throw a baseball from my back deck and hit any one of five different back yards. Our place is alive with sound and activity when everyone is awake. Yet the house feels much bigger when everyone else is asleep and the slightest sounds echo off the wood floor.
Everyone needs quiet time to just relax and decompress. I only get mine about once a week, and I treasure every minute. Yes, I finally understand why my mom got out of bed every morning at 4:30 a.m. when she didn’t have to be at work until 8 o’clock.
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