Of Waffles and Willpower

I am not a morning person.  I know that.  My kids know that.  My husband knows that.  My neighbors even know it.  Maybe it's not even that I'm not a morning person - it's just that I'm so much a night person.  I need some time to decompress after the day.  I love the stillness of the house after everyone has gone to bed.  It finally feels like I can turn my brain off and just....be.  Sure, I have quiet during the day while the kids are at school, but I'm supposed to be doing stuff.  Even if I'm not doing anything, I know in my mind that I should be, so I have this constant battle going on in my head.  At night, though, when all is quiet and my family has drifted off, I feel like I can allow myself a few hours of nothingness.  After all, I can't really vacuum or do dishes or get the grocery shopping done late at night.  It can all wait until tomorrow.  And so I just sit.  I might play a word game.  I might catch up on an episode or two of my favorite show.  Or, I might just sit and do nothing.  To me, those few hours of silence are magical.

This habit of mine, however, has made it nearly impossible for me to wake up at any sort of respectable hour in the mornings.  Especially during the summer, there were many times that the kids would wake up before I did.  I told myself that it was fine.  It was summer after all!  But deep down, I knew I could do better - that I could be so much more productive if I could just drag myself out of bed.  Every other week or so, I would promise my husband that I'd do better.  That I would be better.  I would tell him that I just needed his help to get me out of bed.  That he wasn't really being kind by letting me sleep (as if it were all his fault), and that he needed to wake me up as he left for work.  And so he would.  And I would grumpily beg for a few more minutes.  I had a hard night.  The kids woke up.  The wind kept me awake.  I just needed a little more sleep and then I would get up.  I promised.  Of course, those few minutes turned into an hour or more, and my husband would stop trying to "help" me out of my snuggly cocoon.

So, when I decided to sit my family down on the eve of the first day of school to make a ginormous (that means REALLY big) promise, I wasn't sure what to expect.  Would they laugh me out of the room?  Would they roll their eyes in disbelief that their sleepy mom could pull off such a feat?  I was a little anxious about the whole thing.  Turns out, my kids have more faith in me than I have faith in myself.  I told them that I had a deal to make with them.  I promised that I would make breakfast - a hot, homemade breakfast - every morning for them.  Immediately, I was greeted - not with laughter, not with eye-rolling disbelief - but with little cheers and smiles.  Mission accomplished - almost.  I hadn't yet told them what their part of the bargain would be.  "All I want in return", I said, "is for you guys to read scriptures with me before school."  I cringed.  Would the excitement from moments before fade into mumbles and grumbles and murmuring?  To my pleasant surprise, all five of the school-age kids readily agreed.  I was ecstatic!

As the kids left our little family council and scattered to finish last-minute preparations for the next day, I glanced over at my husband.  He had a look on his face that said to me, "oh honey, here we go again."  I knew what he was thinking.  It had been a few weeks since my last attempt at perfection, and I was due for a little self-improvement sprint.  I gave him a hug and thanked him for not laughing at me in front of the kids.  He hugged me back and said in his most convincing voice, "Well, it should be interesting."

And so it began.  I set my alarm for 5:30 a.m., and when it rang, I rolled out of bed...even though I had only climbed into it a few short hours before.  I heated up the waffle-maker, mixed the batter and started waking the kids.  They got up and got dressed with very little nagging (which probably had more to do with the excitement of starting a new school year than the smell of my sub-par waffles) and we were sitting together on the sofa, scriptures open, by 6:15.  We took turns reading a few verses at a time until we finished the first chapter of 1 Nephi.  We had done it!

Not a grumpy face in sight!

We have had five scripture-reading mornings since that first day, and every one has been better than the last.  The kids wake up, curious to know what I'm fixing.  We've had french toast and breakfast burritos and sausage and eggs and hashbrowns.  We've had scrambled egg sandwiches and waffles.  I find myself scouring the internet for new and fun breakfast ideas.  Not once have the kids grumbled about having to be up earlier than usual.  In fact, during our post-reading prayer, each child has thanked Heavenly Father for the opportunity to read scriptures before school.  They thank me for making them breakfast, but it is them I am grateful for.  I am thankful that I have the kind of kids who will humor the wishes of a far from perfect mom. I am grateful for God's tender mercies, for I know that it is with His help that I am able to make this change.  I don't know how long this will last.  I try not to look too far ahead, because then feelings of doubt start to creep in to my thoughts.  Consistency and perseverance are not the strongest of my qualities.  But I do know one thing.  Tomorrow's breakfast is going to be marvelous.