I've always been an early riser - that is, until I had kids. I remember as a teenager, I'd get up WAY before the crack of dawn to go for a run. I lived on the Upper East Side of Manhattan and sometimes I'd run all the way to mid-town, which is about 50 blocks each way. It was exhilarating! Other than those early morning runs, I didn't really like to exercise that much, so it wasn't physical fitness that was inspiring me to get up and bust a move. No, the thing I enjoyed the most was the time of day - that was the big draw for me. I loved everything about the very early morning hours as I made my way through sleepy city streets which had one eye open, but were still not quite ready to spring back to life: there was the smell of just-baked bread and the yawns of the grumbling souls on the early shifts who were working in the back rooms of stores that hadn't opened yet. There were the stragglers from the night before who were clearly reluctant to accept that the party was over and it was time to go home (it was Manhattan, remember, so there were more of those types than you might think!). But between the lines of that low-level hum of activity, there was the quiet.  Being in the middle of this exciting city when there weren't throngs of people crowding the sidewalks or noisy buses and cabs honking their way through constant traffic jams and when my hometown actually felt like it was mine...well, that was my own little slice of heaven in those days.

After leaving New York and living in other cities (and countries), my love for early morning walks and contemplation continued. I found joy in the quietness and beauty of nature in the small towns I lived in; the slower pace of life was appealing to me, especially after having kids.

I'm not sure when the switch flipped and I stopped automatically getting up super early everyday - probably somewhere between breast-feeding every 3 hours and potty training - but when I started the journey of trying to work from home, the only option really open to me for working without interruption from the kids was either early in the morning before everyone woke up or late at night after everyone went to sleep. After a couple of unsuccessful stints with burning the midnight oil (yes, face down, fast asleep on my keyboard) I discoverd that early mornings still had the power to work their magic on me. I feel more creative, refreshed and alive when I wake up early and make time to relish the possibilities that the day might bring. My home office is in the garage  behind my house so I have to walk out of my back door and across the backyard to get to my computer, and I do so enjoy those few moments. I often stop while in the yard and stare at the sky as I listen to the silence that envelopes my little suburban community. It's such a feeling of well-being that I can't help but be grateful - for everything.

If you're in the midst of the parenting journey and in desperate need of some "me" time, I encourage you to try the early morning hours if you haven't already. If you think you're not the morning type, you may surprise yourself and find that there's something the morning offers that transcends your distaste for that time of day.  If you already get up early as heck, maybe you can try going to bed a little earlier to accomodate waking up sooner?

It doesn't have to be a whole hour or a big chunk of time at first. You could start out with thinking of something small that you'd like to get done uninterrupted - reading a chapter of a book, folding laundry, checking email, perusing the newspaper, etc. Then set your alarm clock for 15 or 20 minutes earlier than you usually would. Gradually you can increase the time in 5-minute increments as you get used to waking up earlier.

It may be a bit of a challenge at first, but it's worth a try, if you can perhaps find, as I did, that when I heed the call of my soul to wake up early, I spend the rest of the day feeling just a little bit ahead of the game.  And that feeling is worth every lost minute of sleep; a thing of beauty indeed.