Happy Friday! I had a particularly difficult time waking up this morning. It doesn't really matter what day of the week it is, I've always struggled with mornings. I recently asked my parents for a picture of me waking up when I was little only to uncover a crazy number of childhood pictures of me sleeping, yawning, and sporting my bedhead with an unhappy dontyoudaretalktome frownie. I could probably count on my hands (and maybe toes) the number of days I've woken up feeling well-rested, rejuvenated and excited about jumping out of bed. Most days I can't peel my eyelids open and the idea of planting my feet on the floor is about the equivalent of fingernails on a chalkboard for me. NOT pleasant.
Back in 1995 my newly married husband, Lee, was met with one of his greatest and most difficult tasks--he was charged with the duty of waking his bride up every single morning and helping get her to class. On time, preferably. Before that year, it was the duty of some diligent roommates (sorry Kathryn, Anita, Laurie, Leslie, Kara, Kristy, and Christy), and before that it was a parent's job (sorry dad! You still have the best morning wake-up trumpet I know of.). I tried everything from pushing my clock forward a few minutes (which crept up to 30 minutes and then all the way up to an hour) to using the snooze to having TWO alarms. Nothing worked.
Lee was beside himself some mornings. After turning on the lights, pulling all covers off the bed, and blasting rock and roll music (and even bringing an ice pack to the bed one morning), he learned quickly that he had met his match in hard-headedness. But if you know anything about Lee, you know he's not one to ever succumb to defeat. This man is ALWAYS up to the task. So he accepted the challenge and devised seven phases that were built into our morning wake-up routine throughout the week. I'll list them below as closely as I can remember (I was usually asleep through half of them, at least):
Lee's Seven Phases to Get His Woman Out of Bed Each Morning
Phase 1: Alarm goes off and he gently reminds her that the sun is up, class/work is starting soon, and it's time to get going.
Phase 2: He turns the lights on or opens the blinds. The room is bright but that doesn't matter so much because she tucks her head deeply under the blankets.
Phase 3: He pulls the blankets off the bed. She lays there in her
skimpy lingeriePJs pretending she's not cold (or blinded).
Phase 4: He blasts some of their favorite music into the room. In those early years, it was probably U2 (which I could STILL wake up to every morning and beyond), or Dave Matthew's Band, or something else along those lines. She mouths the words, but her eyes are still closed.
Phase 5: He begins pulling and prodding her from the bed. She playfully slaps and pushes his hands away, leaving him with little else to do...
Phase 6: He begins slowly and carefully removing her night clothes. She may even help (admitting defeat). By now she's at least coherent, though usually feisty. Honestly, phase six is just a leeway to phase seven because if we made it this far, there's no stopping this train. ;)
Phase 7: By now it's been close to 20 minutes. He gives her one final warning, "Phase Seven, Time's UP!" Seeing her motionless, he matter-of-factly begins removing his own clothing, reminding her that "you only brought this on yourself." She (now fully awake) begins giggling. She's been awake since phase four (music helps), but WHY get out of bed when there's a 7th phase on its way?
Now, I could have just climbed out of bed each morning, stumbled to the shower, down to breakfast, and out the door. Highly unlikely, but at least possible. However, then you would have never read this blog post...and what fun would that have been? With the seven phases, I actually began waking up on phase one--only to decided if we really and truly had enough time to properly carry out phase seven. There is a time factor, ya know. And hubby, well, he began making it through the seven phases more quickly each morning. Noticeably so.
Today we no longer use the same phases--especially since we have an eleven-month-old who still co-sleeps. But for close to a decade it was just the two of us. It still will often take Lee two or three visits to the bedroom each morning reminding me that we "do have two other children to take care of (just in case you forgot)." And some mornings, when we're lucky enough to have all three children nestled sleepily in their beds, we still jump straight to phase seven.
By the way, I'm completely aware of the fact that my teenage children will ask me to remove this post one day. I can already hear it..."Oh Mooo-oooom, gross. My friends read this blog!"
Wait, who am I kidding??? What TEEN would enjoy reading their friend's mom's blog?
I can sure...
(Until phase seven, that is.)