[I went the easy way this time, and slightly changed my thoughts from 5am challenge post I once wrote.
Technically, it was a sound inspiration:_)
Plus, it is still relevant, still true, and sweet dreams are still the case:)]
27-year old, looks quite exhausted, sitting in spacious (clearly, the action doesn't take place in London:) 8:57 train, on her way to work
She talks to herself.
(Many people do. Not so many do that aloud.)
It was 5am when I woke up. 5am!
is into early starts, morning routines - this challenge involving a
completely unwelcomed idea of dragging oneself out of bed for no
particular reason other than be in the flow of all the others,
miserable, half-asleep early starters...
Actually, it's my MiniMan. My lovely, cheeky, 2.5-year old boy. He has no problem with an early start.
He mastered it.
Driven by desire for a bowl of cereals with milk, he uses few of a vast array of his sophisticated 'wake up, mummy!' techniques.
Clearly, each of them works perfectly fine.
result, we're up.
Eating - obviously, I'm in for that, too; no one should eat alone.
Talking - and it's not me this time.
Jigsawing - that is MiniMan's part, with focus and passion
any entrepreneur wish they had.
Reading - that's me, multitasking trained to the perfection, ha!.
us, nothing happens.
It's dark - it's 5am. 5am!
We're the centre of excitement, and movement.
And frustration, but only for a
while, when a particularly stubborn piece doesn't seem to fit into the
The meaning of life, 2.5-year old way...
[7:30 am update
We managed until 6:00. And then the nap took us both over; my MiniMan and me.
Power nap. It was a power nap.
Pretty cool, apart from the fact I'm now running late.
At least I had my sweet dreams with that nap. Can't complain...