adapting slow mornings to the daily routine

I did all things right: I bought the nature sounds alarm clock (which I need to return because the blue backlight is too bright and the sound doesn’t gradually increase, it just shocks you out of your system), I got the book Miracle Mornings as it was recommended by Awakened Mama Community member Jessica (including Miracle Mornings for Writers), I set my alarm for 5h30 ready to tackle the day and adapt to a new schedule… and the baby woke at five. Yep. He’s up at five most mornings, because he sleeps from 18h/18h30 – so around 11 hours of consecutive sleep.

I can’t complain about his sleep schedule – I don’t have that right considering I get a full night with no issue and the only thing I have to do right now is hold his hand as he falls asleep. And I can’t shift his bedtime to a later time because: a. I need the evenings to wind down and prep dinner (and currently, the end of dinner already brings us close to 20h30), and b. it won’t make an impact on his wakeup time. He’s like a bird.

However, what does that mean for me and my slow morning routine? I can’t possibly rise before five. That’s not human. And if I wish to function through the entire day as a non-robotic piece of this family puzzle, it just isn’t logical. How could I possibly implement a miracle morning schedule if my kid has already dominated the mornings and called them his own?

Maybe it’s the grey skies, maybe it’s the unfortunate turn of the morning plans, maybe it’s the mood my son is in (not a great one), maybe it’s all the weirdly judgy content being pushed to me through Instagram, or maybe it’s just the end of my cycle, but client readings won’t be able to happen today because the energy is off. Whenever I have services, I ensure I am 100% in the right headspace and soulspace to perform them. And today, I’m not. It’s taken me over thirty minutes to simply write this far. I keep getting distracted, zoning out, scrolling mindlessly, staring at the books on my shelf in the office… I am not there.

But: I do feel a spiritual creative project pull as I write this. And I think I should respond to it. Today, I leave this blog open and plan to tend to it later – with the hope that the fog lifts and something meaningful may emerge as the sun settles low in the sky and the afternoon quiets.

Like Spring buds hold back for the opportune time, I, too, must pause from blooming today. I have nothing more in me to share…

xx C

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Though I do not miss who I was before the birth of my son, letting go of freedom and adapting to a change in identity was no light task. The birth of a mother is no less intense than the birth of a little soul.