Early Mornings, Endless Love: My 5 AM Bonding Ritual with My 7-Month-Old Son

It’s 10:30 pm on Tuesday evening, and my Wednesday morning start here. Every evening prior to adjusting my pillow to fit perfectly in the arch of my neck and pulling my heathered-gray heavy comforter over my body, I prep my son’s clothes, diaper bag, my clothes for the day, and my gym bag all ready for the 5:00 am alarm on my Samsung Galaxy s23 to ring alerting me that it’s time to wake up. While some may think I’m nuts, for me, this is the best, most intimate part of my day with my son.

Every weekday morning, my 7-month-old son and I wake up and head to Starbucks, arriving somewhere between 6:05 am and 6:30 am. All of this depends on when I am able to pack up all of our things for the day stuffing it into the car so we can get on our way.

I’ve always been a morning person, the type of person who finds that the early bird actually does get the worm.

Daily, my most productive hours are between 6:00 am and 8:30 am. Somewhere between 8:00 am and 8:30 am, I begin to lose a bit of steam, and my brain wants to shut off after that. It could be because of the commotion in the Starbucks, where not only my computer and belongings are scattered around the two tables I’ve pushed together beside one of the only outlets in the café, but also my son’s diaper bag, stroller, and whatever else he needs. It’d be easy to see that we have claimed the northwest corner of the café. Nonetheless, it’s almost as though my brain becomes content with the amount of work I have been able to complete during these few hours. By 8:30 am, not only has my boy been changed, fed, and is now napping, my real estate newsletter and blog have been created and mass emailed out, and one or two other daily tasks are crossed off my list! Ah, the simple satisfaction of productivity. One may think, “What in the world does this have to do with bonding with his son?” And you would be right to ask this question. To which I would reply with the answer, “Nothing.” It’s not so much of the what of our morning that is incredibly intimate with him, but the flow of it all, how in sync we are with one another. That said, while productivity hugely gratifies and boosts my self-esteem, what truly matters is what precedes the 6 o’clock hour.

At 5:00 am, the alarm rings a synthetic symphony of chimes just enough to wake me up, which is the key to ensuring that the morning goes off easily. Snooze is not an option! Second and third alarms are not options! However, I must mention that I set a second alarm at 5:26 am to ensure I am out of bed. For those ‘Oops, I did it again…’ mornings. No one is perfect. Not every morning flows as beautifully as what you are reading right now. If you remember, in my last article, there is a villain in every fairytale.

At the sound of my 5:00 am alarm, I get my a** out of bed. No questions asked. This is vital! If I do not do this, the entire morning will be affected. I won’t get dressed fast enough; my sluggish mood follows me throughout the house as I get dressed, brush my teeth, and pack up anything extra that has yet to be packed away the night before. Once I am out of bed and close the bedroom door of my 1-bedroom apartment so that the lights throughout the rest of our 350 sqft home don’t wake little man, I have one hour to get this day rolling. As mentioned, packing up the next day’s bags the night before is vital to our successful morning flow. Getting out of the house is one of the hardest things for a single father. I used to be the guy who was always 10 minutes early to everything. Now, I am always the guy that is 45–60 minutes late to anything and everything. You would think after 2.5 years and 8 children later (yes 8, as i mentioned in a previous article we will get there, just hang in there with me), I would have learned how to make getting to anywhere on time, but no, I haven’t until just recently. At some point in the evening, before I pack up my son’s baby bag with everything he will need for the next day, a bottle, diaper, food, etc. His clothing is laid on top of his baby bag, so those are not forgotten. Because, yes, if they’re not blatantly in my path of vision, they will be forgotten. You try being a full-time single parent, then judge me. But still, I know, no excuses.

While I am rummaging through whatever clean clothing is left to find something for him to wear, I will also pick out whatever I come across for myself. My typical joggers and a tee shirt. Athleisure is my go-to. Everything from my briefs (if I choose to wear any the next day — this is not typical) to my Adidas and socks is out and ready for tomorrow morning. As all this is taking place our home is peacefully silent other than my son’s heavy breathing and occasional coo as he tosses and turns. One thing I will often sacrifice in the morning is a shower. That I leave for bed/bathtime routine (my shower happens after baby boy is bathed) or sometime during the day if I have some spare time. Now, because everything is packed away and showers are reserved for the evening, accomplishing this morning routine is easier than ever. If you want to try this, make it as easy as possible. Getting all this done in the morning is gravely unrealistic. This also means that from 9:00 pm to 10:00 pm, my TV gets turned off so that I don’t fall victim to another wildly true crime TV show on ID Channel. I have watched every episode of Evil Lives Here, See No Evil, and many more bad-acting reenactment crime shows.

But Kevin, again, how is this a peaceful bond with your son? That’s the thing; for some reason, ensuring that he is prepared for the morning, picking out his tiny shorts and onesie as he is peacefully asleep, just makes me feel like I am his protector. It’s a parent, a father. And that feels amazing. Knowing that while he is sleeping, I am there doing my best to take care of everything for him. And that overflows into the morning. One day he won’t want this, so I will soak up as much of it now as possible. As 5:45 am approaches, I grab him from his crib and begin our walk to the car parked at a parking meter down the street.

He is still pretty sleepy and lays his tiny head on my shoulder. His chest rises up and down, and his breathing sounds like a warm embrace.

It reminds me of the comfort and unwavering trust I felt doing the same with my mother as a young kid. It fills the lifelong desire I’ve always had of having a child hold on to me as he sleeps and needs his Superman. The feeling is almost unexplainable. This is probably because I never had a father who did these sort of things for me. There must still be something inside me that is fueled this desire all my life. These small moments make the difficulties of being a single father fade away. As we get to my SUV and I place him in his car seat, he fidgets a little, but that’s only when I lift the car seat straps out from under his body and strap him in tightly. Depending on how much sleep he got the night before, he will either be awake and smiling or still be in a deep sleep (my particular favorite). I then jump in the driver’s seat and take off a whopping 30 seconds away down my driveway and outside my front door. Everything I packed the night before is useless if I forget to grab it all from the house! Why didn’t I simply bring it all to the car in the first place? Well, I only have two arms, and one of them is holding a human.

We live in an Accessory Dwelling Unit (ADU) so I do not have on-site parking like everyone on the property, and parking around my home is a nightmare (see, even this story has its villian). When we first moved here, I’d park my car at one of the parking meters near my house since parking after 4:00 pm is free until 6:00 am in the morning. And because only $4.00 gets you parking at one of these parking meters from 6:00 am to 4:00 pm, I, like many others forced to deal with street parking dash to make it to our cars by 6:00 am just to pay the meter. The struggle for me was waking my boy up at 5:50 am just to put money in a parking meter and then coming back in to hope he fell back asleep on the way from the parking meter. And this, reader, is how and why 6:00 am Starbucks work sessions began. I realized that rather than spend $4.00 on a parking meter, why don’t I pay less ($2.95) for a cup of coffee. And the very next day, I changed everything.

Now, once we get to the car, I get my son all strapped in; I drive my car to my front door, load in his diaper bag, gym bag, and my backpack with my computer and etc. in it, and off we go.

Once at Starbucks, I start by changing my son’s clothing and diaper; I only do this after we leave the house because it will slow the entire process down. As I mentioned, I do this to make things easy on myself; it is 5:00 am, and I’m no spring chicken then. I find the little things, and they add up at some point, making things flow. I’m finding myself having a moment to sit and not rush before I wake him to go to the car since things are so efficient. And because it is typically just us and the baristas in there at that hour, it all feels relaxing and not rushed. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by Los Angeles. So it’s best to change and feed him first thing at Starbucks after grabbing his bag of everything for the day, clothing included. This gets the car moved by 6:00 am, avoiding a $72.00 parking ticket, coffee in hand by 6:10a-ish, and my boy cleaned up and changed around 6:30 am. From there, he is excellent at keeping himself occupied until he is sleepy, so I rock him into a nap. He will sleep calmly while just I work, maybe one other person doing the same by this point, and a few others trickle in and out. There is something about a silent coffee shop, the success of flawlessly executing a morning routine as a single dad that is the perfect start of your day! And all of it with my sidekick by my side!

Giving him the space to finish his sleep, carrying him to the car asleep on my shoulder, tucking him into the car seat, doing what I can in my power to be the best parent I can be for him, and getting him out of PJs and into a fresh diaper and clothes the best part of our day. Its the perfect morning with endless love.

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Buddy, watching you sleep comfortabilty in your stroller with your belly full and fresh clothes on your body as the moring sun comes up is truly the highlight of my day. You make everything worth it.

I love you, buddy.

Daddy.

*Side note, this is my story. Not my sons, mine. No details about him will be shared. Just me being a father.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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