Those who know me well, know that I'm an early-to-rise, early-to-bed person. In school I could never pull an all-nighter (unless for special occassion fun - like graduation). When I had procrastinated to the last moment on papers instead of staying up all night I would go to bed early and wake up at 4am, finish the paper and head to class. I was one of those crazy people that always had 8am classes (french, 5-days a week. A good thing, too!)
As an adult I find that morningtime is my most productive and I can easily accomplish twice as much during those hours of the day than any other time. After 8pm I'm a zombie if I haven't had a nap. My husband, who has the opposite schedule as me and routinely stays up until after midnight is often flummoxed when he stumbles awake and sees how much I've done.
Zoom onto recent mornings and I find that I'm losing my edge. Now that winter has set in (such as it is here in Nice), it's becoming more obvious to my collegues that I arrive to work daily with wet hair. I started back to work in my awesome Marc Jacobs skirt that I bought half-price for Boo's baptism. Now I'm lucky if it's more than t-shirt, jeans & wedges. My manager, who is always pressed and dapper, is trying to be sympathetic since his wife is pregnant with their first child. Still I feel guilty. I'm always a bit late, and always rumpled.Yesterday I noticed a little bit of yogurt on my sweater. This morning I was half-way to work when I realized that I was still wearing the sneakers that I put on to take out the garbage.
How did it get like this? I remember saying (waaaaay before the pregnancy) that I'd like to be glamor-mom. Of course now I realize that the trendy, glamor moms that I see either have a) stylists or b) nannies or sometimes both.
My mornings are shockingly busy. I wake when Boo wakes somewhere between 5:30 and 6:30. He drinks and then plays. During play time I make the coffee, empty the dishwasher, fill the diaper bag and make his breakfast. I feed him breakfast around 7:30 and then he has a bath. At 8:00 he goes into bed for a mini-nap (or babble-play of the contented fed and bathed baby) while I get ready for work. Squeezed into my moments rushing through the house are picking up playtime toys, putting clean laundry away, putting a new load in, and on...and on.... Suddenly the clock says 8:40. I load the car, then get Boo into his coat. By 8:50 we're out the door. I drop him at 9:00 and chat with a few minutes with the nanny. I leave by 9:10. I'm at work at 9:30 and by the time I arrive I'm totally exhausted. Since I haven't had time to eat, I often stop and get a pastry. My work day begins somewhere between 9:45 and 10am. Which makes me feel oh-so-lame.
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