At our house, we call it First Ups.
I got First Ups, I will say, and waking the house is as sacred as putting it to bed:
Dogs out, thoroughly patted, fed;
Good morning, sweet Taigh — good morning coffee;
Sometimes there’s needful recovery from the day before, so dishes, trash out;
This morning, it’s trash all the way to the road.
Sometimes First Ups is too early, and I’ve striven too much before light and I go back for Second Sleep.
And then one of the others thinks that they have First Ups and the sacred quiet of that time,
and the dogs get Second Breakfast.