The Minnesota Farm Woman

My toddler grandson slept until 10:00 a.m. yesterday. On a Saturday. That is not fair at all. For generations, it has been every mother’s fervent wish that her children will have children who turn out to be just like them. Most mornings, my daughter got up around 5:00 a.m. Even as a teen, when most of her friends were sleeping until noon, she barely slept past 8:00. I remember a sweet little sing-song voice whispering in my ear one weekend morning at 4:45: “Kriiiispies……Rice Kriiiiispies….” Shortly after that, I moved the milk down to a lower shelf in the refrigerator where she could reach it. Don’t judge. There was no mother of the year award for me that year, nor the year I accidentally sloshed her out of the water-bed. HE tried to explain to her that weekends were made for sleeping in. Her answer? “Daddy, I just don’t want to waste the day!”. When I was a kid, I didn’t sleep late, either, but would stay in bed and read, hiding my book under the covers and pretending to be asleep if Mom came in to ask me to do my Saturday chore of cleaning my room. I had the messiest room in town, too. Unfortunately, our daughter took after me in the worst way, and her open bedroom door, with clothes and toys oozing out into the hallway, was a constant source of consternation for me while she was growing up. When my mom would visit, she would sometimes open that bedroom door and smile, making comments about her prayers finally being answered. Very funny, that mother of mine. I ignored the smarty-pants remarks, since when she visited, she did the laundry and cooked us a wonderful meal every evening, and I didn’t want to put a stop to THAT gravy train. These days, I would love to sleep late, but be it from the snap and crackle of my creaky joints or Pop’s snoring, I just can’t. I still can’t seem to keep my room spotlessly clean, but it certainly is a lot neater than when I was a teenager. (The rest of the house isn’t too bad, either, as long as you give me a few minutes notice before you stop over.) My daughter’s bedroom? I don’t know, because when I go to visit, the door is always shut. I like to think that she took after her father’s side of the family and it is sparkling clean in there. Whether your house is neat as a pin or has that “lived-in” look; if you’re a late sleeper or up at the crack of dawn, take some advice from the little girl with a messy room who turned into a successful woman anyway: Don’t waste the day!