As the early bird in my family, I’m used to getting up and having a quiet house to myself. I like to do my stretches on the floor with the cat weaving in and out under me while I’m in the cat-cow stretch and then join me in my chair as I drink coffee, play my daily solitaire challenge and delete commercial emails that appeared over night. If no one wakes up for my precious two hours before I leave for work, I sometimes knit while listening to NPR or read.
Occasionally my husband wakes up at some point during this little routine of mine and if he does, I try to check in with him. We spent so much of our married life in syncopated work hours, (he on swing and graveyard, me on school hours,) that I want to engage him in morning routines if it works for both of us. I’ll bring my coffee into the bedroom and play my silly game or knit while he checks up on the news or we chat about whatever.
Today it was whatever. Because he actually got out of bed and was in the living room with cereal, my husband started singing “Oh how I hate to get up in the morning” by Irving Berlin. He looked up the song on the internet and sang all the verses and then read Berlin’s Wikipedia biography to me when I asked about him.
It wasn’t the way I usually spend my mornings, and although I really do treasure my quiet ‘me’ time, I’m impressed by what I learned about Irving Berlin!