The future father of my children is… is preparing me for the dreaded school run

6 03 2013

bad morning person

I have never been particularly good first thing in the morning. I am a creature of habit and I like routine. My routine involves getting up with plenty of time to myself, in my own space and absolutely NO TALKING!

I HATE mornings – but I can just about cope with them if I have absolute silence.

Despite having spent about 12 years waking up next to me, the FFOMC has never observed appropriate morning etiquette. His main goal appears to be to narrow the gap between him getting up and him leaving the house so that it is as short as humanly possible. He also seems to require my full and undivided attention at this time. By way of contrast I need time to wake gradually and mentally prepare for the day ahead with minimal distractions and fuss.

“Snuggle time” has started to seriously eat into my slow leisurely introduction to each new day and FFOMC seems intent on making sure this lasts as long as possible. I usually manage to excavate myself from the tangled duvet & his warm embrace at a reasonable time so I can make the painful journey into the living room.

When FFOMC does eventually manage to join me, he bounds in full of the joys of spring expecting tea to be ready in the pot waiting and for me to be amenable and attentive during what he sees as his comedy half hour before I manage to usher him out the front door and deliver him to the train station before enjoying my fabulous 20min drive to work alone.

On good days, he is bouncy and humorous, while that is not something I wish to deal with before my third cup of coffee, it may be preferable to the mornings when he sulks, puts on the puppy dog eyes and laments his lot in life and the injustice of having to work for a living. On these days he muddles round with little sense of purpose and needs a significant amount of motivation before leaving the house. He is frequently unable to locate his hairbrush, his bag for work and even his damn shoes. I am regaled with tales of how wonderful his life will be after his retirement or when he fulfills his ambition of becoming a house husband and I can only breathe a sigh of relief when he finally kisses me on the cheek as he exits my car finally leaving me with much needed head space before my chaotic day at work.

But about a second later – I actually miss him.

I have mixed feelings about the early morning conduct of FFOMC. While he irritates me beyond belief before 9am, any mornings not filled with his determination to break my resolve to actually get up in the first place, his demands that I assist with the archaeological expedition to recover lost paperwork, bank cards, clothing etc, his sing-song stories about how great life will be when I make enough money to support both of us or his insistence on correcting my driving habits in the 4 minutes he spends with me in my car (despite the fact the he himself does not have a licence) – quite frankly, mornings without these irritations are really quite empty.

I have no doubt that when we do eventually have children they will have their own understanding of good morning etiquette that will greatly differ not only from my definition but also from his.

I only hope that when my future children do arrive that they will do me the courtesy of torturing him for a few years so that he may come to appreciate the need for a calm and tranquil start to the day – although unfortunately by this time it is an experience that neither of us will experience until we retire.

For earlier posts about FFOMC check out:

I'm part of Post A Day 2013




2 responses

20 03 2013
27 03 2013

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