I am so not a night person.  I guess it should make me more empathetic towards those who are not morning people-but it does not.  I still do not understand them.  I wish I could me more of a night person-but alas.  I wasn't at 16 or 26, and I don't see it developing later in life.  I slept in one morning over break until 9:30-I can't even remember the last time I did that except maybe one time when we flew from Hawaii back to Maryland.  Maybe.  But on a regular basis, 6 or 6:30 are my usual times.  I like getting up while the house is quiet, making that first delicious cup of coffee and enjoying that time to get organized in peace for my day: packing lunches, sending emails, getting various kids up and feeding them breakfast.  I think I'm the calmest, but most upbeat, of the entire day.  After 6 pm, forget it.  Staying up right now, even though I'm in comfortable jammies, and everyone is else upstairs (other than Andrew who's finishing homework-hence why I'm downstairs for moral support) is tortuous.  I feel like this is a much bigger parental sacrifice than all the various meals and schlepping about town.  I want to be tucked in, alone (or at least just with Stef) and with my books.