My kids are fantastic sleepers, and it’s the one thing I pat myself on the back for. After the agonies of midnight breastfeeding, and the torture of sleep training, Andy and Molly both sleep soundly through the night. Isn’t that amazing? I’m smug and full of pride; I didn’t read all those parenting books for nothing! I can count on getting at least six hours of continuous sleep. Mornings, however, are becoming a sticking point. Parents can never have it all, can we?
Andy’s an early riser, which is great on school days, and not so great on weekends. Last Saturday, I was deep in the bowels of a complicated dream, when the ‘click’ of a light switch jolted me awake. Confused and grumpy, I heard the toilet flush loudly, followed by the sound of rushing water. Convinced the bathroom was flooding, I forced myself up and stumbled down the hall, squinting and grumbling. I wasn’t prepared to find Andy, shirtless and soaking wet, splashing his hands in the sink. “Andy, what’s going on?” I whispered. “I was goin’ pee an’ I washed my hands an’ my shirt got wet so I took it off!” he chirped happily. “That’s great buddy. Let’s go back to bed, okay?” He looked at me curiously: “but it’s morning! I wanna get up!” I herded him back to his room, put dry pjs on him, and said “yes, sweetie, but it’s five in the morning. Mommy needs more sleep, or she’ll turn into a dragon.” Despite his protests, I closed his door and lurched back to my room. Have you ever tried to sleep while a marching band practices next door? I daresay the band would’ve been quieter than Andy. Random thumps and weird noises kept me awake for the next hour. What in the name of monkeys was going on in his room? Was he practicing the trombone?
I’ve never been an early riser, even in my youth. Early birds are chumps, in my opinion. Who wants to get up at the crack of dawn to catch worms, when you can sleep in and have burgers for lunch? (Hey, I should put that quote on a t-shirt!) Andy is just like his dad, Jeremy, who’s ready to go once his feet touch the ground. I need at least three cups of coffee before I can form complete sentences. Unless I get an espresso machine installed on my nightstand, my mornings will always be sluggish and slow. I wish I had my son’s ‘get up and go,’ but let’s face it: he’s a gassed up Corvette and I’m a broken down jalopy. I’ve been running on empty for years!