The Best Laid Schemes O' Mice an' Moms

Oh, how I had looked forward to this morning! All this week I had had to rise with the breaking day, and, no matter how early I go to bed the night before, early mornings will never be my friends. Friday was my one beautiful day, when I could turn off my alarm clock and revel in the glory of not needing to be anywhere. Saturday will see me up early to go for training in Seattle. Sunday, of course, will bring the rush of getting to church on time (or within ten minutes). All next week -- Monday through Friday -- will be "working" days with all dawn greetings in my future. So, Friday was my one hope for sleeping in a spell. I programmed the coffee maker to alleviate my "have-to-get-up-and-make-coffee-for-my-poor-hubby-before-he-trudges-off-to-work" guilt. I threw an extra blanket on the bed. I read for a bit. Then, I turned off the light a little after midnight and sank into my pillows -- convinced that I was not to awaken for at least eight hours. Ah, bliss.

Short-lived bliss.

Sadie exuberantly bounced into bed with us this morning at the ungodly hour of 6:30 AM. I groaned and rolled over. She started twirling my hair. I snapped at her to stop that. She whimpered that it was her "hobby." I snarled back that she should go back to her own bed. She slid out of our bed. Two minutes later I heard the shrill voice of Dora the Explorer from our office computer.

"Turn that off!" I yelled.

Jason mooked out of bed and lured Sadie off the computer with the promise of coffee cake. As he got ready for work, Sadie started playing in her room. Loudly.

"Sadie! Keep it down!" I hollered and threw a pillow over my head.

Two hours of troubled tossing ensued, before I gave up and sat up in bed. Sadie zoomed around the corner -- grinning ear to ear.

"Yay! You're up!" she exclaimed. "I'm starving! Make me some breakfast!"

I'll be the first to admit that I am not a pleasant person in the morning. I glared at the wee interloper and stalked off into the kitchen. I refused to speak until I had my cup of coffee. Sweet, sweet caffeine mellowed me a bit, and I resumed motherly duties -- grudgingly.

Now, a few hours later, my perspective and sense of humor have returned abundantly. After all, it is nice to have someone here just longing for my company in the morning -- even if it is merely to grab them some victuals. And those lines of Robert Burns remain funny and true:

The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,

Gang aft agley,

An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,

For promis'd joy!

-- From "To a Mouse" or, in this instance, perhaps, "To a Mom"

And here's a little Chesterton to round out my bitter recounting of Friday's Disappointment:

Daybreak is a never-ending glory;

Getting out of bed is a never-ending nuisance.