A friend of mine told me that when his sons were five and three years old, they woke up at six every morning. One the weekends, week after week, he and his wife tried to persuade them to go back to sleep - with no success.
So he finally gave up. He’d let his wife stay in bed and he’d get the boys dressed and out the door. He’d stop for coffee, then the three of them would head for the park, and he’d watch them play for an hour before they returned home for breakfast.
These days his boys sleep late on the weekends, and now, my friend told me, those mornings are some of his clearest and happiest memories of that period.