I’m a morning person. Always have been. Most days I’m up and at ‘em before 6 a.m., and by 7 I’ve already showered, shaved, shat, brushed, read the sports page and, on a great day, eaten at least one frosted strawberry Pop-Tart (not toasted) (because toasting a Pop-Tart and destroying its artificially organic splendor is tantamount to turning a convertible Ferrari into a station wagon) (or talking about health care on parenting blog).

My allegiance to the morning is partly because it’s the only part of day when I can have some time to myself. I need that time and I’m protective of it. If you mess with it, I'll cut you. No distractions, no serious obligations, no outside influences. It’s just me, my appetite, my newspaper, and occasionally the token, big-breasted weather-girl-slash-cock-tease on the local Fox affiliate – the one to whom my friends not-so-adoringly refer as “Sparkletits.”

Naturally, the kids have ruined everything. Specifically our son. Over the course of his first seven years on earth, that kid has studied my sleep patterns to the degree that he knows exactly what time I will awaken the next morning and he purposely sets his own body clock to wake up one minute before me. I roll out of bed and rub the eye boogers from my eyes, and the moment my vision unfucks itself I see him.

“Hi daddy!” he says in a voice way too chipper for 5:30 a.m. “Can we go to Starbucks together?”

Starbucks. That’s what gets him out of bed so early. One morning a couple of years ago, the first time he obliterated my private morning time by waking up early, I decided we’d go to Starbucks and have some father-son time. I bought him chocolate milk and a chocolate donut (a revelation that didn’t sit well with his mother) (“You bought him WHAT?! Well in about 30 minutes, when he has a sugar crash and is lying on the floor screaming about not wanting to wear underwear, he’s all yours, Mr. Chocolate Man. Good luck with that.”).

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t absolutely love that morning. He sat in my lap and we read the sports page together and all of the women in Starbucks looked at us and smiled about how cute we were together. But the lingering disaster from that fateful morning is that it set a precedent in the boy’s mind, and he now believes he must wake up early EVERY MORNING so as not to miss another opportunity to scarf mass quantities of chocolate wonderment. I’ve created a monster and he looks just like me.

Long story short, I’m fucked. And so is he. I’m trapped in the middle of The Perfect Storm in my own home. If I DO take him to Starbucks, Hot Wife gives me that disapproving glare that says, “You just blew any chance of nookie in the near future, bucko.” If I DON’T take him to Starbucks, he cries until the rest of the house is awake, at which point they all hate my guts because they were right in the middle of a great dream about a) Paul Newman, b) Barney, or on an especially desperate night, c) me.

What sits before me is, in my entirely narcissistic opinion, worse than Sophie’s Choice. “I cannot choose! I cannot choose!”

So I’ve started sleeping in.

Comments

Dad Gone Mad you kick ass!

I. Love. Your. Blog.

Paul Newman in his younger days.

You're a funny man.

Thought: Find someone that the boy doesn't know, but you do, and pay that person to meet you both at starbucks, and to create a traumatic event so that instead of pairing the experience with pleasure, your son will pair it with pain. Maybe the pain of boredom. Maybe you could get an old woman you know to corner you both in there and complain about her ailments...

Good luck with your choice.

Ok. I have been a lurker for a long long time, but I have got to say that your blog makes me laugh every day.

mtnjoyn

You had to go there. You just had to mention pop tarts...the vending machines here at work usually stock them...but for some reason there's everything else in th evending machine EXCEPT pop tarts...because I checked...just after I finished reading your awesome entry...the only thing that would have added insult to injury was if they did have pop tarts stocked BEHIND something else like let's say organic trail mix...then what?

So does your son still get up and try and roust you out of bed? When I was in junior high we had an exchange student from Australia...every night before bed I'd set the coffee pot to brew at 5am. I'd set my alarm, get up and make her and I a HUGE cup of coffee take it in her room and wake her up! haha It was our time...most of the time she was happy, a couple times she just wanted to sleep!

Oh, I'm a total morning person too and I absolutely adore getting up, brewing a fresh pot of coffee, reading / interneting/watching the news and having just that one hour of peace before my boyfriend wakes up... he used to sleep until 9 or 10 each day...

But now he's gotten all responsible and shit, and wakes up right around the same time as me... I'm glad he's being more productive, but damn, there goes my morning solitude...

That's a sad tale but Bossy wants to talk Pop Tarts: she completely agrees about savoring the chemicals at room temperature. Works even better with the chocolate frosted...

Am I the only one who brown sugar pop tarts the best????

I feel your pain..wait ..No I don't.. I don't have kids...but I do have two cats that know when my alarm clock goes off and they lie in wait until one minute before....then head butt me until I am awake

Brown Sugar are the only ones I'd eat. And only unfrosted.

I wanna be a morning person. Instead I sleep in until the baby wakes. Then "me" time is gone.

dude. I'm a total morning person too. Like 10:30 in the morning. When you come to SF, will you bring pop tarts? I don't think they sell them here.

Frosted brown sugar ... the best! I'm usually the only one up for an hour and I'm leaving for work before anyone's really moving around. Most days - love it. Snow days or particularly awesome fall or spring days - hate it. Just got a new king-sized mattress too. The first morning after the new bed - hated to get up. It was totally unfair!

I am not a morning person, the kids wake up before me everyday. I stay up really late though, to get my me time and watch all the good shows, with no one bugging me. And who heats up pop tarts, they are gross that way.

Brown sugar, with frosting and untoasted....not even sure why they make those other flavors except for kids or something.

You lost me after shatting after shower. We all know that shitting is before you shower and shave.

Hmmm... I used to like the frosted brown sugar ones. But, after working 5 years with k-6th graders, I couldn't bring myself to eat another PopTart. BUT, then I was introduced to the s'mores ones.... nuke em for like 5 seconds to activate the gooey stuff and you are set.
I eat my PopTarts at work after I've ran outta the house within 20 mins of waking up.

I know EXACTLY what you mean. My mornings are screwed too. No matter how early I wake up, I am greeted by one of my girls. First words, Chocolate milk. I might as well stay up all night to get that alone time.

Have you thought about making a deal with the kids to leave you alone during the week and they can go with you on Saturday or Sunday morning? Don't get them chocolate, get a fruit smoothie instead or better yet just a glass of milk. Maybe then the appeal will disappear.

Does he take a nap? my son has a BAD napping schedule and we stay up unitl 11-12 midnight sometimes but he ends up sleeping like 12 hours and wakes up at noon where as I'm a morning person get up 5 hours before him so it's pretty calm in my house until then :)

What is it with the kids and the Starbucks? My seven year old son has the same obsession. Foolishly, I fed that obsession for a while since it gave me the opportunity to actually read the newspaper, an activity that has since been sacrificed to the parenting gods.

Now the kid goes bananas every time we pass a Starbucks, and since we live in Yuppiesville, CA we pass a Starbucks roughly every fifteen seconds. Fuck me.

I used to treasure MY morning time too. Until my daughter, little miss evil pants, realized that that's the best time to get mommy's attention. I think my daughter & your son are in cahoots. Little shits.

Okay for you brown sugar pop tart lovers, try this... a little butter to the unfrosted side, microwave for 30 seconds = a little bit o' heaven.

And I feel for your loss of morning bliss.... X 2. I have twins....they are 2 1/2....they think they need to wake the sun up! FUCK. YOU.