My younger son’s internal clock has NOT reset since the daylight savings time change. So, every morning at 5:30 I feel a warm little hand on mine and hear a soft whisper.
Sam: Mom?
Me (one eye open): Yes?
Sam: Will you play with me?
At first I tried to get him to go back to sleep with me. That doesn’t work. He lays there having a conversation with a pretend friend, chuckling to himself. It’s like being in bed with a drunk with a low I.Q.
Then, I started hauling myself out of bed so he wouldn’t wake up my older son who needs sleep or my husband who likes sleep.
After a week, we now have a routine. Sam waits patiently for me in the kitchen while I brew my coffee. I have trained him on the rules of engagement. No chitty chat until I’ve had my first sip. He sees me bring me the cup to my lips.
Sam: Are you ready?
Me: Sure, what’s on the docket?
Sam: Let’s make books.
He lords over me while I do all the work, instructing me to make this larger or that smaller. He seems as happy as a middle manager in a factory who’s ahead of schedule. I kind of like this game.
Sam: Can we play something else now?
Me: Sure. Cards?
Sam: No, can I tie you up? I want to practice my knots.
I make a mental note to delete “Man. Vs. Wild” shows.
Me: Okay, but let me refill my coffee first, and you must leave one hand and my mouth free.
Even though I am not a huge fan of some of the activities he comes up with, I really look forward to this pocket of time we have discovered. He will be sleeping in and moving on soon enough. Now if I can just get him to play the cooking prep game...
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