The Breakfast Club

Some people are morning people. They get up at first light and make the best of the day.

Some people are night owls. They can party until late into the night, basking in the buzz of the moon.

I’d like to be one or the other. In reality however I am neither. Just sat somewhere awkwardly in between. 

I don’t like lying in bed until late. Something deep inside forces me to drag my tired arse out of bed at 7 am, to ensure we make the best of the day.

The kids on the other hand have very different ways to kick off the day. 

T is 11. We have to tell him the earliest time he is allowed to get out of bed. Left to his own devices I’m sure he’d be up at 4 am. Singing and running around the house like a loon. 

I’d love to be like T. As it stands I need a coffee or two before I can admit to myself that this level of energy is even possible at this time of the day.

D is 14. D wakes up around 8. She wanders into the kitchen and sits waiting for her breakfast to be served to her. I have learned the hard way to avoid joking around D in the morning. Any signs of humour or energy are destroyed with a single icy stare from her deep brown eyes.

Once fed she disappears into the shower and the bedroom for a mandatory few hours of preparation. Outfits are chosen, tried, discarded, an alternative is chosen; and so the daily merry go round of fashion begins. Hair is made perfect. Every single hair. Made absolutely perfect. 

Hours spent grooming eyebrows (I swear I cannot tell the difference between the before and after, but it matters to D so it matters to me). 

When D finally returns to the communal areas of the house she shines and looks perfect. Utterly inappropriately attired, but perfectly so. 

B is 17. He sleeps until we enter his bedroom with a cattle rod. When he finally awakes he needs a coffee and a good slice of time before he is ready to face the world. 

That first sip of coffee awakens his innate humour, his addictive laugh and his frustratingly laid back attitude.  

If there is anything we want to do as a family, especially if it requires us to leave the house before supper, it can take superhuman effort. Getting an 11. 14 and 17 year old out of the door before noon would stretch the diplomatic skills of Kofi Annan. Herding butterflies. 

Yet it’s these family mornings that I love the most and miss the most sharply when we are not all together. 

T’s youthful  enthusiasm kick-starts my energy for the day. He sparks a breathless joy of being alive and the promise of a fun filled awesome day ahead. 

D teaches me the important of mindfulness. She is my morning bodhisattva demonstrating the Zen of eyebrow grooming. 

B is a pure demonstration of Taoism in action. Aware, joyful and never striving. Pooh Bear with a cooler social media profile. 

So amongst the exasperated cries of “please can we all just get our shoes on and get in the car” is a heartfelt love and a lesson being learnt.