Still not a morning person

A few people have asked me how I'm doing with the Organization Project - specifically the Becoming a Morning Person aspect of it.

And the truth is that I suck at it.

I go back and forth about whether it's even a good idea. But that's probably mostly just me trying to convince myself that it's no big deal that it seems natural to me that I stay up until three or four in the morning and sleep till noon. And maybe if I didn't have kids to take care of it wouldn't be that big of a deal.

Honestly, it would be best if I could somehow stay up till three or four in the morning and still wake up by eight. I haven't figured out how to make that work yet, though.

The thing is that I'm most productive after ten at night.  The kids are in bed, the house gets quiet, and I really get my groove going. I get work done, I get things cleaned, I really get so much accomplished. So if I'm going to bed just when I start to feel most productive, I'm really not ever going to get anything done.

I did give it a good shot, and I haven't given up on it yet. But I've found that even when I force myself to get to sleep at a decent hour, where decent means before midnight, and I wake up at an early morning hour, where early means before eight, I can't seem to motivate myself to actually do anything productive the whole day.  And just when I start to feel motivated, it's time for bed again.

I have to assume that if I keep it up, eventually I'll become functional during the day. But in the meantime, I'm just walking through life in a hazy fog and getting nothing done.

So I haven't done well, because frankly I need to get things done. I'm hoping that there will be some sort of lull in my summer at some point where I can attempt to "reset" myself without worrying so much about whether I'm getting a lot done.  Sounds like a vacation might be in order. :)

The Spaz lives vicariously through her daughter... and other stuff, too...

I haven't had a lot of blogging time lately and part of that is due to my attempt to organize my life.  Working on getting my proverbial crap together hasn't left me a whole lot of time to flit around the blogosphere or post anything of my own.

But things are looking a little more together in Spazland.

One of the things on my list was to get the kids involved in the activities they've been begging to do for years. While my kids have always been fairly busy with friends and family, they've never been really involved in too many extra-curricular activities. Bug was involved in scouts for a year, Munchkin has girl scouts and Goober played one season of flag football, but other than that the kids mostly spend their time playing with friends and lounging around the house proclaiming boredom.

So it was a big goal of mine to get them each involved in an extra-curricular activity.  Bug enters middle school next year and I know how easy it is for unoccupied middle-schoolers to get themselves into trouble.  Munchkin's only a year behind him, too.  So in an attempt to keep them out of the path of certain mayhem, I'm planning to keep them busy.

Not only that, but summer is quickly barreling down upon us and I definitely want the kids to have some stuff to do this summer. 

The boys have both been begging for karate lessons for what seems like forever. In fact, I distinctly remember last summer getting a pamphlet for a karate school outside of the movie theater and thinking that I had been thinking about putting the boys in karate forever.  And that was a year ago. 

So the time has come.  Today the boys will take their first karate lesson.  They're following in the footsteps of The Man who spent nearly his entire youth in a karate studio.  They're both so excited they reminded me of the lesson this morning before school. 

Munchkin, a girl after my own heart, wanted nothing more than to saddle up and take riding lessons.  I winced when I researched the cost of lessons, but finally found a place not too far away that was almost reasonable.  I set up a lesson for her on Friday afternoon and went on an all day quest to locate boots and a helmet at thrift stores before her lesson.  I did score a pair of paddock boots in her size for $5, but the helmet we had to buy new.  I guess it all evened out.

Friday afternoon, Munchkin could barely contain herself as we drove to the barn. We live in horse country. We have dressage show grounds so close to us that we can hear the announcers from our back yard when the wind is right. We're a hop, skip, and small jump away from polo country and the most elite of Florida's hunter/jumper society.

But that's not what I want for Munchkin.  When I was growing up, the barn I rode at was laid back.  Sure, we could put on our best breeches and boots and fit in with the crowd at the shows on the weekends, but back at the barn there was no pretension.  We had broken fences and weedy grass and broken pick up trucks in the back.  And when I was growing up it was my favorite place to be.

So when I pulled into the driveway at the barn where Munchkin was starting lessons, I was thrilled when a little Jack Russel terrier came running over to us and jumped right up on us.  I was elated to see patches of sand and fences that hadn't seen a coat of paint in at least a decade.  We called over the fence to a girl who was in the barn and she motioned for us to come on in, even though there were several horses grazing in the yard right outside of the barn.  A big, dark brown Thoroughbred named Bud walked right over and greeted us and I thought Munchkin might faint with delight.

The girl brought out a large pony named Misty and clipped some leads on to her to get her tacked up for Munchkin's lesson. Munchkin couldn't resist giving Misty a hug as she was being brushed.  I thought I might cry.  Instead, I took pictures.



During the lesson I had to keep myself from shouting my own instructions out to Munchkin.  I kept apologizing to her instructor, who was incredibly patient with both Munchkin and her pain in the ass mother.  I promised that from now on, I'd just drop Munchkin and go since I obviously couldn't keep my mouth shut.



Munchkin gained a lot of confidence during her lesson and by the end of it had gotten the hang of trotting and posting and getting Misty to move even when she didn't want to.  When the lesson was over, Munchkin truly didn't want it to end.  Misty, however, was thrilled to be done and ready to get back to grazing.



Her next lesson is scheduled for tomorrow. I promised I wouldn't stay and watch. Hopefully it won't kill me to just drop her off.  

If falling off the wagon explains letting an addiction beat you, then I'm addicted to not feeling like crap and not being tired all freaking day.

I'm failing.

The dog is mad at me.

We have not been for a walk since Sunday. 

It started Sunday when I stayed up a little too late. I was just trying to get things done, finish up some work, and before I knew it, the clock was creeping into the AM hours and I wasn't even yawning.

So Monday morning I didn't wake up as early as I needed to get out for our walk.  Poor Sudo.  Monday night was a repeat of Sunday night and I woke up so late on Tuesday morning that the kids were late to school.  Then I gave The Organization Project a firm kick in the nuts yesterday afternoon when at 3 o'clock I decided I needed a nap.

And all those nasty thoughts are creeping in.  Self defeating thoughts.

"What's so great about being a morning person, anyway?"
"I work better at night."
"I've been functioning just fine for this long." (That one is just an outright lie.)

I know I have to jump back on the wagon.  I just hate going to bed at 10:30. I mean, so much happens after 10:30. All the best Bravo shows, most Internet drama trainwrecks, and eBay's highest traffic times are all happening after 10:30.

It is a bumpy and rickety wagon to have to cling to, y'all.

It's a big, scary, gym sneaker stinky world out there... and I'm just trying to keep my babies from it as long as possible...

I have not fallen off the face of the earth and I have not stopped with my Morning Person routine, either. It has not been easy and I can't say I have reached that point where I hop out of bed, fresh-faced and bushy-tailed and excited to greet the day. But I'm awake.

And productivity has increased, slightly, so that's a plus. Procrastination has decreased and things are getting a little more organized.  All is going according to plan.

But I'm still tired. 

And many sources have stated that it might take about 3 weeks to a month for me to stop being so tired.  Here I am, only having one week under my belt and I already feel like I'm dragging myself across the ground by my fingertips.

So keep your fingers crossed.

This week, and the rest of the month, are shaping up to be busy days. This week we get to go to an Orientation for Bug's middle school.

And that freaks me out. Middle School.... 6th grade was probably the worst years of my life as a kid. Going from the safe, only slightly judgmental halls of my elementary school to this gigantic, smelly, atmosphere filled with gigantic, smelly kids who wanted nothing more than to make my life hell.

Those were the days of self-discovery.  They were the days when we figured out where we "fit in"... what social group we were destined to belong to and where we ranked on the social ladder.  It's like before 6th grade we were all just a happy lump of clay and by the time we entered high school we were a discernible piece of pottery. Some of us with more cracks and blemishes than others.

So to say I'm nervous about Bug starting middle school is an understatement. But he is blissfully optimistic and excited. He has friends that will be attending this middle school, he is impressed with its size and shiny promises. And I am determined not to dampen his spirits.  Hopefully his experience with 6th grade will be nothing like my own.

Still tired... so very, very tired...

So when we were preparing our skin for melanoma sitting outside at Outback on mother's day we were discussing this blog.  Affectionately referred to as "the blog" by my family.

B1 has taken to saying to people when we're together "Be careful! She'll blog about that!"

Which delights me to no end, actually.

Anyhow, B1 noted I'm always trying to improve myself and that she might not like the new and improved me as much as she likes the old and spazzy one. I couldn't help but chuckle.

My Dad noted that I just thrive on having goals.

But the truth is that I really am just not happy with my disorganized, crazy, messy life. I know I'm missing out and I know my family suffers for it.  It's that thought that is keeping me going with this little project I'm working on now.

Because if it weren't for those "goals" in my head, I would have totally given up on this "Becoming a Morning Person" thing today. 

I'm sure it will take some time for me to get used to this new schedule of mine where I wake up early, stay up all day, and go to bed early.  But in the meantime, I'm absolutely so incredibly tired.

Today I was pretty okay until about 3 pm.  And then the tired set in.  It took everything I had to keep on trucking and not just crawl into bed for a nap.  But somehow I managed to finish work, feed the kids, get some laundry done, get Munchkin's supplies for her project (due tomorrow, of course), and take Goober over to the park for this season's football pre-qualifying session.

Goober will be playing tackle football this year.  Not flag.  This makes me nervous... but darnit if he won't look cute in that uniform. I can't wait to get pictures.

The Spaz decides she is too tired to come up with a good title for the post

Yesterday was my first day in my attempt to change from a night owl to a morning person.  Sunday night I managed to get to sleep by 11:30 (not 10:30 as I had originally hoped) and my alarm was set for 6:30 AM, instead of my usual 7:00 AM.  This was to allow time for walk with the dog, which would get me into the sunlight, which would stimulate cortisol, which would turn me into a happy person for the day.

So 6:30 came along and I managed to not hit snooze even once. I got out of bed and grabbed the walking clothes I had set out Sunday night and got myself ready for walking.

Somehow I blearily clipped Sudo's leash onto his collar while he excitedly wagged his entire body. How does the dog have so much energy at 6:30 in the morning?

It wasn't until we were returning from the walk that I think I woke up.  But I did feel somewhat better and I didn't have any desire to take a nap.  At least not then.  And my stomach was awake, which is a whole new feeling for me.  My stomach doesn't typically wake up until mid-morning or sometimes lunch time, but this morning I was positively hungry and it wasn't even 7:30 yet.

I returned back to the house around 7:05 and had just enough time to fix myself some oatmeal and an egg burrito before I had to wake up the kids and take them to school.  Having their clothes laid out the night before was awesome and  by the time I had to deal with them I had woken up enough that I wasn't a nasty grump, like I usually am. I changed into normal clothes and we were in the car and they were dropped off early enough for Munchkin to have her social time.

Under normal circumstances, I would have dropped the kids at school in a half-awake haze and driven home only to crawl back into bed until around 10 or 11. But today, I drove straight to buy inventory.  I spent all morning shopping and it was around noon that I felt my first crash feeling.

I really really wanted a nap.

But I persevered. 

The rest of the day was sort of foggy. My energy was low and I spent the rest of the time watching the clock and counting down the minutes until I could crawl into bed.

This morning person thing is going to take some getting used to.

Saying Goodbye to my 1 AM rendezvous with Facebook...

So, I've always had high hopes of being one of those people that awakes, smiling, at the first crack of light in the sky. The person who can happily stretch and put on their running shoes and go for a nice morning jog before anyone else in their house has opened an eye.

I've attempted it. I even had a good, two week stretch where I woke up every morning at about 6:30 and took the dog for a 2 mile walk. The something got me off track and that was the end of that. The dog gets a morning shuffle around the yard from me these days and then gets ushered back into the house so I can get the kids to school on time.

They say that successful people are morning people. I have never succeeded at changing myself into a morning person.  But I've done some research and discovered that it is, indeed, possible to change from a night owl to a morning person.  So, in the name of The Organization Project and my poor, neglected dog, I'm going to try.  This is officially Step 1 of The Organization Project.



I know, I'm such a font dork.

In my research, I've learned that genetics really does play a big part in whether a person is a morning person or a night owl. This article was pretty eye opening to the idea that it's all my mom and dad's fault that I'm like this.

Mom and Dad are not morning people.  My whole life they got up in the mornings and did what they had to do... but mornings in our home were not cheery occasions.  My father is not even human until he's had a few sips of coffee, but he knows the value of being awake in the mornings and therefore has always been up at a respectable hour.  When I was in elementary school, my mother bought me a loud alarm clock and made sure I knew how to get to school on my own every morning, rather than pull herself out of bed at the ghastly hour it would have required to see me off to school.

So I'm fairly sure that the "morning person" gene is not in my system.

So, like my parents, I'm going to have to train myself to be a morning person. Everything I've read has said pretty much the same things. Do not hit snooze, prepare the night before, get outside and take a walk first thing, do not take naps, turn off computers and televisions 2 hours before bedtime, don't exercise in the evenings, and don't drink caffeine or alcohol late in the day.

Right, drink all my booze in the mornings.

Just kidding.

Some other tips I thought were helpful were to give myself something to look forward to in the morning, use an alarm clock that lights the room slowly (I actually have one of those that I never use), take a melatonin supplement 4 hours before bedtime, take a warm shower or bath before bed, and keep the bedroom at a cool 70 degrees (which may cost a fortune in South Florida... so we'll see about that).

So, beginning Sunday night, I'll be putting Step 1 of The Organization Project to work.  I'll make sure I have all of our clothes laid out and ready for Monday and everything ready to go for the day. At 6:30 I'll take my melatonin and I'll turn off the computers and the TV by 8. I'll take a warm bath and snuggle up in bed with my nook (on night setting, of course) and if all goes well I'll be in dreamland by 10:30.

Wish me luck, Internetz. I'll need it.

The Spaz considers that being a Spaz might not be the best thing ever...

The other day I woke up a teensy bit late and knew I'd probably not make it to school on time with the kids. If the kids arrive to school a second after 8:00, parents are required to park their cars, walk their children into the office, sign them in, and personally escort them to their classrooms. They say it's because it takes too many resources to have someone else walk the kids to their classrooms (why the children can't walk themselves to their classes, I'm not sure) but I'm fairly certain it has more to do with punishing late parents than anything else.

So anyhow, I woke up at 7:30 instead of my usual 7:00.  Recently I've adopted a pretty laid back approach to being late. I used to shoot out of bed and scramble around, yelling and screaming for the kids to get their backpacks and shoes and "HURRY HURRY HURRY!!!"

And then one morning I woke up really late. Like, after 8:00.  And there was no point to all the freaking out and running around so I just calmly woke up the kids, fed them, got them dressed, and off we went.  It was so much nicer.

So I'm much calmer about being late now. It doesn't happen very often... in fact the other day was only the 2nd time the kids have been late all year. But when it does happen, we just get there when we get there. I don't freak out about it anymore.

So I'm signing the kids in the other morning and I sort of laugh at the spot on the sign in sheet where it says "Reason for Tardiness"... I noticed that the time before I had written "Overslept" and that's what I went ahead and put in again... but I laughed and remarked to the office secretary that one time I was going to write in that spot "Utter lack of organization" because that was really the real reason we were late.

And she just cocked an eyebrow and said "Okayyyy......." and took a sip out of her shiny magenta travel mug.

So I muttered under my breath, but loud enough that she could hear "I guess someone left their sense of humor at home today."

She has never really liked me much. I guess I don't really care.

But after I dropped them off I started thinking about my "Utter lack of organization" and I realized that as the kids get older, my disorganization is more difficult to deal with. The kids have busier lives, which in turn makes my life busier, and they require a lot more from me.  And, frankly, I'm letting them down by not being prepared.

So I'm going to start something new. And I'm so serious about it, I've made pretty supporting graphics.

I haven't gotten all the kinks worked out just yet. But I know where I'm starting so that's a plus. I'll be posting more details about The Organization Project in the next few days. My official start date will be Monday, May 9th.

Stay tuned, handful of readers.  The Spaz is attempting to get a little less spastic.