At An Ungodly Hour

I know there are people out there who get up early so they can get things done. Housework, writing, getting lunches ready… morning’s a productive time for those people. This might lead one to believe that I, too, should have lots of time for writing on here these days, what with my children getting me up ridiculously early, but it’s just not so.

On Wednesday morning, Simon got up at 3:00. UP- as in, he was sitting on the couch, then playing on the living room floor, andgenerally not going back to bed. I tried to get some more sleep, but there’s no way I can really sleep when my kid’s up alone. Yesterday was even worse- 2:00. He manages to fall asleep on the couch by around 6:00, but by then Isaac’s awake, so I’m up anyway- and Simon doesn’t get to sleep much longer, either.

What’s the problem? Well, there’s the move, which is bound to throw a guy off, even if it’s a bit of a delayed reaction. Then there’s the “sleep begets sleep” rule; if he has one bad night and doesn’t get a nap to make up for it, he’s guaranteed to have another bad night*.

He’s sleeping in this morning; it’s now 7:00 and I haven’t heard a groan/moan from him yet. Isaac, however, picked up some of the slack and got me up at 5:45. What a team!

I wish I could just go, “well, I’m up anyway, might as well get a start on my day!” Maybe if I’d had a decent sleep in recent memory, I’d do just that. There’s always plenty to do. Instead, I flake out on the couch and try to close my eyes and doze off, even for just a few minutes at a time.

I’ve done a few posts on Adventures In Home Ec, though not too early in the morning- that would just come out an incoherent mess (more so than any of my usual rambles). Other than that… this is what you get, folks.

A few nights ago I had a dream that my aunt was telling me about this fabulous night she’d had, 9 hours of totally restful sleep… and I cried. In the dream, I broke down crying because I was so jealous. Now, this is my aunt who in reality hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since about 1981, but there you have it.

I’m too damn tired to come up with a conclusion to this post that doesn’t leave things hanging, so

and by bad night I mean trouble getting to sleep, night terrors and waking up at an ungodly hour.
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