To my darling daughter whom I adore beyond belief,
It's time we had a talk about mornings.
Let me start by explaining what mornings are. Mornings are when people wake up for the day.
A lovely morning starts with the number 9 (as in, any time after 9am). My darling kitten, I do not expect wonders from you, so I won't even go there.
Good mornings start with the number 8. Again, little one, I understand this concept is beyond foreign to you, so we don't have to talk about 8am wake-ups again.
7am starts are good. 7am wake-ups are kind of expected at this stage. If you rose at 7am, I would be happy. Nay, I would rejoice.
Anything that starts with the number 6 is veering into 'not quite morning' category.
Yes, there are people who wake at this time voluntarily, but you've got to understand, little chicken, I am not one of these people. And yet, because 6am is on the spectrum of 'mornings' I would be okay with it.
5am is not morning.
Let me repeat, dolly dearest, 5am is not morning.
Look, I don't expect you to know how time works at this stage. You don't really talk, you've only been walking for a few months; I don't think you're a miracle worker.
But somehow, most other babies seem to have grasped this concept. If the number starts with 5 – as in 5.15am, 5.26am, 5.38am – it is (at least in my books) not morning.
I will make a slight exception for times from 5.40am onwards – and that's just because I'm desperate. If the time can be reworded to start with another time – like 5.40am is also know as 'twenty to 6' – then yes, I'm willing to let it slide into acceptable territory.
I do count my lucky stars, sweet angel, that you don't rise every morning in the 5s. Actually, you've just debuted a good run in the 7s and I keep my fingers crossed that we are at the beginning of a new era.
I also must admit that, regardless of what time you wake up, you are rather adorable. Even at the aforementioned 5.15am you are just a bundle of cuteness as you stand in your cot and jump up and down, filled beyond belief with excitement to see me.
To be honest, I find it quite amazing that anyone is excited to see the 5.15am version of me.
I once read that Cindy Crawford said that even she doesn't wake up looking like Cindy Crawford (meaning there's a whole lot of behind-the-scenes prep to get her looking so good).
My bunny bear, we both know I'm no Cindy Crawford. But I think of her statement often: at 5.15am, I give bed-hair a new definition. I can barely walk at that time because I'm so half asleep, so I must look quite zombie-esque to you.
And yet, instead of being shocked at my appearance, you jump up and down upon my arrival as though I am the queen herself.
Little pumpkin, I would really love you to consider this letter as a gentle nudge. It would be 50 shades of wonderful if you could somehow reprogram yourself to rise just a wee bit later.
But, baby bear, I assume our situation won't last forever. If the clichés are anything to go by, I figure that by the time you're a teenager you will no longer be an early riser.
By then, I'm sure you'll have some extra firm words for me if I dare wake you before 9am.
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