Last week, in attempt to get us on some kind of schedule, I started taking Westley for a walk first thing in the morning. I know it makes me look like a morning person, bundled up against the misty Seattle morning with my even-more-bundled little man in the stroller, tramping uphill (it truly is uphill every direction from our house). But I'm so not a morning person.
I decided to take us for a walk first thing because it was easy, quiet, and free. I didn't think I'd actually enjoy it. But now that we're well into our second week of weekday-morning walks, it looks like this agenda item might actually stick. Strangely, getting outside before I've washed my face (or even really had a chance to wake up) makes for a better morning.
This used to be the morning "routine": I'd stumble out of bed, turn on "Sesame Street," and search weakly for the inspiration to make something healthy and tasty for breakfast with an hour's worth of Muppet sounds in the background. And when the credits started rolling, I felt just as tired as I did when I got up (plus a little pissed off that an hour had passed and I'd accomplished little more than sitting on my ass). Now, an hour passes and I'm still tired, though it's in a more virtuous I-just-pushed-my-son-up-a-giant-hill sort of way, and the TV is off. It's amazing to me how much better this makes me feel about life.
There's something awesome about being up when other people are in bed. I'm not talking about those early months of Westley-dom, when my day started at 4:00 AM and "ended" at midnight. Nursing in the middle of the pitch-black January night makes you feel like even God is getting more sleep than you are. But walking through the mostly-sleeping neighborhood makes me feel like I'm getting away with something cool.
This morning, I pushed Westley past the high school where some pretty serious construction is going on. One of the workers looked at the stroller, looked at me, smiled, and nodded: "Good morning."
"Good morning," I replied.
By the time we rounded the corner of our own street, we'd collected "good morning"s from cyclists, dog-walking senior citizens, and a serious-looking businessman on his way to the bus stop. Part of me thinks those "good morning" greetings actually work, because we've been having pretty good mornings since the walks started.
After a few more pretty good mornings, I might just become a morning person.