I’ve been complaining a wee bit about waking up at 6am every morning to do yoga and I think I’ve figured out what the problem is.

I wake up at 6am — usually after a late night working — so I can do something for me. Something QUIET and JUST for me.

Usually, my kids wake up at around 7:30am (also 2:30, 4:45, and 5:40, but that’s for another blog post). So I figured if I wanted to do any sort of thing that was JUST FOR ME under my roof, I better set my alarm a little earlier, pad softly down the stairs and enjoy.

Not so much.

The moment I shift into consciousness, the moment my eyelids dare part, HE wakes up….

And then SHE wakes up….

Thankfully, SHE stays put in bed….

But occasionally — and with special thanks to DAYLIGHT SAVINGS — she gets up too and at some point, usually midway into my yoga practice, wants breakfast….

We’ll not talk about the horrid cat situation. Okay — twist my arm — briefly: HE wakes up shortly before 6am (of course), steals my last precious minutes of sleep by locating any perceivable piece of plastic and crinkling it (i.e., threatening to eat it and die), or spilling the water on my night table (i.e., right-next-to-my-Kobo).


Sic ‘em, Betty White…!

So waking up at 6am would be EASY and maybe even JOYFUL if I didn’t have to contend with all of the above — not to mention that pesky little voice in my head that goes on and on about stuff like, “You could sooo, toooootally stay in bed until 7:30,” “what’s one day off of yoga?” “You need a break,” “You deserve a break,” and, of course, “can we have a chai latte later? Maybe don’t do yoga and have a chai today, and then be PERFECT tomorrow?” “You’ll never lose this weight, so screw it!” Ugh.

It’s truly amazing, then, when you think about it, that I actually got up at 6am every morning this week AND got start-to-finish through my yoga practice. I let out the dog, I set Rascal up on the couch (he never stays there), I break up cat-and-dog fights, I get Rascal water and the Monkey some cereal and blueberries…. “Can I lie on you?” Rascal asks, as I fold over in janu sirsasana C….

It’s not exactly meditative like yoga’s supposed to be…. But occasionally, like in a semi-uninterrupted janu sirsasana B, my mind gets really quiet, and 5 breaths can feel like 5 minutes…and I can maybe sense a sweet little surrender.

But, there ARE people who do this sort of thing no problem. A friend of mine with a 1- and 3-year-old wakes up at 5am to workout blissfully in her basement. Her kids, however, aren’t high maintenance….

My yoga teacher, who has a 5-month-old, wakes up a THREE A-M to practice…. I knowww!

Still there are others like Sarah, mom of FOUR. She wakes up at 5:30am every morning because that’s WHEN HER KIDS WAKE UP. Does she get any time to herself at all — let alone to workout? Who am I to complain about a self-imposed 6am?

So questions. Is it selfish of me to EXPECT time for myself at 6am? It’s not even like waking up at 5am would make a difference, I remind you, since the Rascal LIVES for “up time.”  I mean, my kids are 3 and 5. Isn’t it healthy for them to see mom taking care of herself and taking SOME time for herself? Thoughts?

PS: After writing this post, I got emails and comments suggesting that I’m too hard on myself. You don’t know the half of it, I’m afraid. But, it’s the way I am, and I’m working on it. Recognition goooooood. I suppose a very good product of all this is that I’m surprisingly not hard on my kids. I hope (pray) they’re never this hard on themselves, and that I can learn to be less hard on myself before they start to notice. Taking care of myself, I think, is a start — even if it means embracing a little discipline. Now, please excuse me, I need to go lift my puppy off my dining room table again. (Special thanks to RJ….)

PPS: MARRRRRRGE!

PPPS: My colleague told me Minden and I look alike.

Love!

xo Haley-O

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