Yesterday, I discussed my struggle to write first thing in the morning. My kids have inherited my (and Mr. Geeky's) struggle to get moving in the morning. I mean, I don't mind getting up, but I want a couple of hours before my brain has to really kick into gear. That's one of the reasons I get up earlier than necessary. I can drink coffee, eat breakfast, and generally warm up to the day. Doing the writing thing isn't exactly the same thing, but I'm still working on it.
The kids have to be prodded a couple of times before they rouse themselves. Like me, they relish every extra minute in bed, snuggling under the warmth of the covers before having to emerge into the harsh realities of the world. If I had my druthers, school wouldn't start until at least 9:30. Next year is going to be painful since Geeky Boy begins middle school and has to be there at some ungodly hour.
Making matters worse at the moment is my utter lack of attention to such basic housekeeping chores as laundry and grocery shopping. Thus, a few minutes ago, I was regaled with, "I don't have any socks" and "I need pants." I responded with "Dig through that basket there" and "Just wear shorts; it's going to be 70 eventually." Health and Human Services is on their way, I'm sure.
Someboday would call this laziness, I suppose. I just choose to direct my energies elsewhere. I guarantee someone who rises at 5:00 a.m. is not going to be awake at midnight reading something. Why is it that our society sees early rising as a virtue and staying up late as a sign of sloth? Is this Ben Franklin's fault? Can I help it if he didn't know the wonders of good lighting at night?