4am. I get up to see my husband off to work. I pack a lunch, fix him breakfast, start the car, and prepare a mug of coffee. I tell him to drive safely and that I love him. I used to tell him to have a good day, but his response "I'll try" rubbed me the wrong way. So I stopped saying that. Drive safe is better, if he tells me he'll try that's okay. I don't think he knows that I pray for his day, that it will be a good one. And in the evening when I ask how his day went I really want to know.
By 4:45 he is out the door. The house is quiet. I get on the computer, check my etsy shop and post on my blog, I catch up on emails and my groups. I post. I look up crochet patterns and print a few for my notebook. I might listen to the stereo or the news, I might sip on some coffee. Each day is different, but it all has to be done by 6, 6:30 at the latest so I can get the kids up and ready for school.
This time, is my time. I treasure it. I despise the child who wakes early and wants to sit with mommy. My time shouldn't have to be spent in the bathroom, on the toilet or in the tub--privacy, but not quiet as children of all ages who have no respect of closed doors knock incessently, loudly, and brazenly until at last I scream "WHAT!". My time is sacred, quiet, me time, doing what I want to do. It is a time for meditation, contemplation, RELAXATION. It's my time alone with the Father. He speaks to me. Sometimes I listen and other times I simply talk back. But He knows that I need my time.
It's 5:50 and I consider a shower. If I go now I can bathe leisurely, I can grease myself down, put on earrings and lipstick, I can slap some quick drying nail polish on my desperately neglected toes. If I wait I can find one more pattern or check one more blog, but my shower will be reminiscent of my college days; jump in, soap up, rinse, jump out, throw on some jeans and go!
6am. Still on the computer but a pot of water is set to boil so the kids can have hot cereal today. The kids...so goes my time.
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