I've spoken before about my motivational woes. The Guilt that I seem to be achieving nothing and doing even less. Never is this worse than during the summer holidays.
Smudge is an early riser and as she gets older and less likely to burn down the house making toast, has been really enjoying getting the downstairs to herself of a morning. Who am I to grumble about a child who wants me to stay in bed?
So staying in bed I have been. I'm usually awake and reading, one ear cocked for the first bleep of the smoke alarm. But I'm not putting my feet on the floor until after 9 most mornings. By the time that I've showered, dressed, tidied the crumb explosions, made and drunk coffee, bullied smudge into proper clothes 'yes we have to wear knickers every day in the summer holidays too' and walked the dog it's lunchtime.
I'm spending my days glancing at the clock marvelling that it can't be that time already. I'm constantly playing catch up. Something will always drop off the end of the never-ending to do list and normally it's my writing.
Tonight I'm going to be brave and set the alarm for 6 and smudge will just have to make toast for 2 tomorrow morning. At least I'll be closer to the smoke alarm for my morris dancing with the tea towel duties.