Waking Up My Kids Was a Mistake
If I could take it back, I would. The consequences tend to be nuclear, I should have learned by now.
Waking up my son every morning is one of my biggest mistakes. By the time 9:10 rolls around and I have him safely delivered to school, I am exhausted. We have the same struggle every morning which begs the question, “Why do I put myself through this agony?”
His litany of reasons why he can’t or won’t get up are varied in their content and complexity. This has gone way beyond the standard, “I’m sick.” He has graduated to reasons that are borderline genius.
It ranges from,
“I couldn’t sleep, I was too hungry since you didn’t feed me enough dinner.” Surely he means the plate of food he CHOSE not to eat.
“I won’t be able to say the Pledge of Allegiance because every time I end up crying, I don’t like to talk out loud in public.” By the way, this is the boy that nominated himself for class clown.
See what I mean? This struggle is real, my friends.
Other times he will take the emotional route because honestly, he knows how to play me.
“I miss daddy.”
“I don’t have any friends.”
“This school is too hard.”
My routine is fairly simple every morning with my son. I go about it with a gentle approach and then up the ante as needed. I start with a cheery,
“Time to get up!”
“I have hot cocoa and oatmeal ready!” I swear, I deserve a prize for that one.
Moving on to….
“You really need to work with me on this, I need you to take some responsibility here.”
This results in tears and a muffled “NO” from under the pillow.
Finally morphing into…
“I’m holding your favorite stuffed animal hostage unless you get up.”
Whether or not the last threat will require future therapy, remains to be seen. I really don’t care. I’m desperate and at this point, I’m out of options. Although it’s only a matter of time before I’m gonna go straight for the hostage threat, pleasantries be damned.