Greg Louganis (probably) won't let me sleep.

I was very recently reminded that we get to "fall back" and gain an hour of sleep Saturday night/Sunday morning this upcoming weekend. I was giddy! Elated! Positively joyous!

For five seconds.

Then I remembered I have a 7-month old who, in all likelihood, will not care one little bit that her mom and dad will be craving that extra sleep. She'll probably be all, "Waaaah, I'm a baby and I want to be fed NOW even though it's only 5:30am because I think it's 6:30! Waaaah!"

And Patrick and I will be all, "But we just want the extra sleep! Go back to sleep little one, go back to--oh, forget it. Put on the coffee."

And some of you are all, "I'm right there with you, sister!" And some of you are all, "Uh, that's what you get for having a kid." And some of you are all, "I wish she'd quit using the phrase, 'And some of you are all....'"

Listen. I love my kid. I think she's the most perfect little thing I've ever laid eyes on (because, you know, she kind of is) and I would move mountains for her. Walk a thousand miles for her. I would do anything for her, and unlike Meatloaf, I will even do That.

The depth and strength of my love for my little smiley, giggly, spit-up machine does NOT change the fact that I have selfish wants and needs. As in: I want to sleep in when the time change happens. If you think about it, it's not really all that selfish. It's patriotic. Sleeping in during the time change says: I love America. Let me join in with the millions of Americans who stand lie together to say, "Yes! Sleep! Zzzz."

Alas, I'll have to stick to saying the pledge or put a flag on my house or voting, because that's one patriotic duty from which I'm quite certain my child will prevent my participation.

Drats.

Oh, I know she can't help it. I mean, she's a baby. She's not worked her way up to empathy, putting others' needs before her own, or counting. (She's very good at sitting, picking up objects, pulling hair, and throwing herself backwards as if she's Greg Louganis doing a backward takeoff. In related news: Patrick and I are getting very good at catching a diving baby.)

So where does this leave us? I'm pretty sure it's going to leave Patrick and I getting up with the roosters Sunday morning and brewing a little extra coffee. The term, "Suck it up, buttercup," comes to mind. Wish us luck.

And listen, if you're sitting there feeling really bummed out about how our Sunday morning is going to go, just wishing there was something you could do, good news! There is! I suggest you join us in our groggy, early-morning state. Don't change your clock, then set the alarm for 7:00. When it goes off, be all like, "Ahhh, it's 7:00 and I've had a delightful night of sleep." Make some coffee. Say hello to your cat. Settle down to watch the news then realize that WAIT A MINUTE IT'S NOT 7:00 IT'S ONLY 6:00 WHY AM I UP RIGHT NOW?!

And then think of us.

Extra coffee and Cock-a-doodle-doo! to you and yours,
xo

Comments

  1. Keep blogging, you have a wonderful sense of humor, and a refreshing world view.

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    1. I very much appreciate the kind words. Thanks. Xo

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