Fresco woke up at 5:30 this morning. Trombone at 5:45. We ignored them until 6:30. <\/p>\n
Stage 1 Anger: Holy shit what is WRONG with these children are they sick? Are they trying to destroy me? It’s not even six AM FOR GOD’S SAKE. And now I’m too pissed off to go back to sleep, even with a pillow over my head. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.<\/p>\n
Stage 2 Acceptance: Fine. I’ll get up. Why not. My head hurts anyway. Why does my head hurt? Because it’s morning. Because I’m evil. Who knows. Stupid headache. Whatever. Go downstairs, drink some coffee.<\/p>\n
Stage 3 Grumpiness: Where’s the coffee. Don’t talk to me. Where’s the motherfucking coffee. My head hurts. What do you mean I have to bend over to take something out of the fridge so I can get the milk to put in my coffee. Our fridge SUCKS. Where’s the ibuprofen?<\/p>\n
Stage 4 Caffeination (and ibuprofenation, in this case): My headache is gone! I feel human! I love you! I am going to write a blog post!<\/p>\n
Stage 5 Contentment: The children are so overtired and equally high-needs, yet I am so calm. How amazing am I. It’s because I got some time to myself before they got up. I should get up an hour earlier every day. <\/p>\n
Stage 6 Realism: As if. It is really damn dark at 5:30 am. You’ve tried this before. You’ve failed. It ain’t happening.<\/p>\n
Stage 7 Bargaining: I could take a coffee maker to my bedroom. And set my alarm for 5:30. I would surely get out of bed if there was coffee *right there*. Or maybe I could just take the kettle upstairs. I could have tea. I could have a teapot full of tea. And watch the sun rise over the mountains. Wouldn’t that be a nice ritual? I would have to go to bed at, like, 8:15, but that’s OK. I could do that. I would get so much done.<\/p>\n
Stage 8 Depression: Now it is noon. All the coffee is gone from my blood, the children are still overtired, they probably won’t nap and I might just pass out and drive into a pole. <\/p>\n
I guess that would be a problem. But I might end up in a coma. A coma is sleep, right?<\/p>\n
Oh, that’s in such poor taste. I am sorry, people in comas.<\/p>\n
Now I have to add “stage 9 – whininess” and “stage 10 – inappropriate language” and I really didn’t want to —<\/p>\n
But wait? What’s that up in the air? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it Chopper 9?<\/a> No – it’s REVERB!<\/p>\n Reverb10 Day 13: Action. When it comes to aspirations, its not about ideas. It’s about making ideas happen. What’s your next step?<\/i> (Author: Scott Belsky)<\/p>\n My next step is to put a kettle and a teapot and some tea on my desk in my bedroom. And maybe a cookie. Tonight I will go to bed at 8:30 and tomorrow I will get up early, sit at my desk, and write. Or cry. Or something. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Fresco woke up at 5:30 this morning. Trombone at 5:45. We ignored them until 6:30. Stage 1 Anger: Holy shit what is WRONG with these children are they sick? Are they trying to destroy me? It’s not even six AM … Continue reading