I know you're all faithfully and fruitfully attending Zumba and Pilates, or running marathan practice routes round the village every night before tea, but I've decided to address the tricky issue of not being able to go to bed early or get up on time the next morning. Obviously I need to change my body clock.
We read this article in the library one night last week, and it all seems very reasonable to me. I have been getting to bed early- between 11 and midnight this week, but have slept fitfully through the whole night. I always wake up slowly and sluggishly, and am never a happy girl! I realise that this is known by the technical term of sloth.
Last night we had progress. I went to bed straight after the boys. Admittedly PC was out at The Rugby, and we all know how long that takes. (Slightly less long than work "lunches".) I slept really well until 1.30am when I woke up very clearly and came downstairs for toast and a little study of Proverbs Woman- there is a reason for this other than madness. I went back to bed an hour later and slept really well until 7.30am when I got up wholly unmolested and decided to go out to rugby with the men. There was no reason for this other than madness, and indeed I relented on arrival and sat in the car listening to Radio 4.
The main disadvantage to this experiment so far seems to lie in the risk involved in using a serrated knife to slice Veda at 1.30am when your eyes haven't fully opened yet. I have also had to forego a cycling trip on the Shore this afternoon so that I could lie under a blanket on the sofa imbibing Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. The main advantage has been the laugh out loud, at 1.30am, hilarity of reading Proverbs 31:15 straight after you've put porridge in the pot for breakfast the next/that very same morning. Minus the servant girls, you understand. This is the Year of Living Small.
There have been other breakthroughs this week. Pom Pom received her prize for guessing that Angela was here engaged on a craft activity- revealing invisible Egyptian ink, to be precise.
Then finally the dB Family have won the scary book- maybe they should save it for dark nights next winter, since Spring seems most certainly to have sprung. Mind you, given how long the stickers took to get to Denver, the book might not arrive in Canada until then, Deborah...
I am, by the way, loving Battle Hymn- funny, tongue-in-cheek, much more self-critical than the furore at the time gave Chua credit for, I think. But I tell you what, there will be way more push in this house from now on. Next week. When I get my body clock sorted out!