A Taylor Christmas

Chapter 1 - Blissful

12 days to Christmas

**Alex's POV**

Right before 6am is the most blissful time of my day.

Those few minutes between the alarm clock going off at 5:47am and me effectively getting out of bed at around 5:55am are my own personal sanctuary. I am aware that 5:47 must look like a very specific, if not rather peculiar time. I have had plenty of siblings pointing that out to me over the years. Yet, I really couldn't care less about what they think of my so-called ritual.

I simply don't see the point of setting my alarm clock for, let's say, 5:45 or 6:00 on the dot. Maybe it is a tick of mine. Or maybe it is my inner schedule that tells me that 8 minutes are exactly what I need to properly boot my system and be ready to face a new day. Honestly, I have never bothered to dwell on it too much. I like my routine and the main thing is that it works wonderfully – at least on those days where my crazy work schedule allows me to even have something akin to a routine.

The first three minutes after the alarm goes off are actually the most precious of them all. In those 180 seconds, as my brain slowly regains consciousness but still remains kind of in a fog where life is ever so carefree. Peaceful, without any stress and completely void of responsibility. It feels like I am floating in between dreamland and reality.

Once the clock hits 5:50am, I am usually fully awake but still won't open my eyes for another four and a half minutes. This is the time when I briefly reflect on potentially unsolved problems from the day before. If I can't come up with a solution in two minutes, I move on to go through my mental schedule for the day ahead.

10 seconds for each of the kids.

Luke. Will. Jack. Aidan. Noah. And Lily.

Another minute is reserved for the adult members of this family – although, to be fair, Luke has been an adult for a bit more than a year now. But it is a bit hard for me to let go and treat him as such.

The final 30 seconds are spent in the most relaxed pose I know, with me lying on my back and focusing on a little breathing exercise that I have once been taught by a person dear to my heart. A person who has helped me back onto my feet after I had almost hit rock bottom. When I was ready to throw in the towel and turn my back on my family.

At exactly 5:55am, I open my eyes and jump out of bed, ready to face another chaotic day as the guardian of five kids between the ages of 7 and 14 and – if I listen to what my other brothers claim – technically also as the head of our rather special family.

On a normal day, I put on my running gear and am out of the door by 6am for my 4-mile-morning-run. The plan is to return around 30 minutes later, drink my first coffee of the day, grab a shower and then start the arduous task of getting the kids out of bed and ready for school.

I rely heavily on Josh to do the first round of waking them up while I am busy getting ready myself. His job is it to open all the bedroom doors and tell them it's time to get up. This usually gets ignored, even if he bothers to do a second round before it is my turn to be the responsible adult and get more serious with that bunch of little sloths.

I think it is fair to say that most of our family does not consist of morning people. At their age, I was exactly the same and I did everything within my power to squeeze in an extra minute of sleep before dragging myself down to the kitchen for breakfast – if there was still time for such luxury – and then hurrying to school just in time to not get detention. So, really, I have a lot of understanding for my younger siblings and their lazy behavior. Only, I can't ever let that show as otherwise they'll undermine my authority within seconds and I will be fighting losing battles going forward.