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AE has always been an early riser.  When he was a  baby, I could usually expect him to awaken for the day around 4:30 or 5 a.m.  Thankfully, I didn’t work outside the home at that time so while it was annoying it wasn’t a huge deal.  (Full disclosure:  Looking back, it doesn’t seem like a huge deal.  At the time I know I felt like my world was coming to an end every morning, and I remember how I used to stick him in the play saucer in front of the TV so I could catch 20 minutes more sleep.)

Miss T is not nearly so much of an early bird.  Occasionally she wakes up around 6, but most mornings N has to wake her up about 7:15 to get ready for daycare.  We can usually count on her to sleep in until a decent hour.

AE continues to be the one to wake us most mornings.  At almost seven years of age, he still requires parental intervention.  Every. Single. Morning.  I can’t convince him that he doesn’t need our permission to turn on the TV or play in his room!  He comes in before the alarm goes off during the week, and on the weekends he wakes us irritatingly early.  Take this morning, for example.  He was hovering over my side of the bed at 6:44 a.m.

Me: ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

AE: Mom.  MOM!

Me: Bleargh?  Huh?

AE: Oh, you’re awake.  Mom!

N: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZz.

Me: WHAT?  It is 6:44 in the morning, AE!

AE: Yeah, I know.  But my mouth tastes funny.

Me: It’s called morning breath.  Brush your teeth!

AE: Oh, okay.  [proceeds to take eleventy-million hours and a ton of assistance to even locate his toothbrush, which is not hidden, instead in plain view in the toothbrush holder on the bathroom counter where it always resides]

N: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Me: [wide awake]

I will say that I will take that sort of wake-up to his usual style, which consists of staring silently at me until I get the creepy feeling that I’m being watched and open my eyes to discover that lo, I AM being watched.  GAH.  I hate it when he does that, and though I have asked him repeatedly not to he doesn’t seem to understand that silent staring is off-putting to some people.  Particularly sleeping people.  It’s the stuff of nightmares, seriously.

I keep hoping that soon he’ll just magically get up and fend for himself until his dad and I awaken.  I have the sneaking suspicion, however, that we’ll have to wait until Miss T is old enough to get up and take care of herself AND her older brother.  Sigh.

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