Apr 27, 2011
M is for Mornings [A-Z of Step-Parenting]
I’m a morning person. I always have been. I probably always will be. I enjoy the peace and quiet of a Sunday morning. I like that I can get things done while others are in a deep sleep.
My wife is the opposite, she likes to turn over and get her money’s worth out of the pillows. The boys take after their Mum. They like to sleep. If it were a competitive sport my step sons would be the equivalent of Bobby and Jack Charlton.
It would be hard to work out how that then becomes an issue. Yet it can do. Take it as a given that every week day morning is fraught with the daily rigours of getting out to school, work, college on time with the correct apparel. The biggest issue is when we need to go somewhere as a family.
Recently, my wife and I were honoured to be asked to be god parents to a wonderful little girl. To top the day the boys said they would come with us to share in the festivities. The service wasn’t until midday, therefore, plenty of time to get where we needed and to take photos.
Why then did we scream into the car park on two wheels with lip sticks still being applied and ties still being tied? The answer is obvious — mornings! They seem to have a miraculous hold over my family.
I was up early as per normal. Breakfast had been made. Teas, coffees and breakfast sandwiches had been delivered to several bedrooms and the washing up completed. I had even made sure all shirts were ironed and shoes were shined.
On leaving the bathroom it was obvious the rest of the house was quieter than it should be. All were still asleep with the phrase, “Five more minutes” resonating around the landing. As a slight control freak my stress levels were now building.
Having learnt about my family over the last few years my head was telling me to pick up a cup of tea and the paper head out to the garden and allow the rest of the gang to revel in their own bedlam. Yet I also know that if I don’t nag the boys and my wife that the reality is we will be extremely late which, is something that is likely to send me over the edge.
This is where I as a ‘step dad’ come into my own. Mornings are mine. The house is mine. The stress levels of getting all up and going are mine.
As the youngest regularly reminds me, “The greater care I take care of him now the better the care home I’ll find myself in later in life!”
I know one thing for sure I’ll definitely not be receiving any morning visitors in that care home.