There was a time when I used to sleep in until 11...every day. I think that ended just about six years and nine months ago. I'm not kidding, three months from today my firstborn will turn seven (but we'll save the freak out on that for another time).
This morning we were awakened by the sounds of a distressed child. At five o'clock. The child had slept on our floor for more than half the night. (I tell myself we're just getting him prepared for camping this summer) I decided to guard my last few precious minutes of sleep by transferring him back to his own bed, which promptly woke up his brother, who came in at 5:15. At this point the man of the house saw the writing on the wall and chose to get up. Jonah took his spot in the bed and was overcome by twitchiness. I'm like the princess and the pea, so it clearly was not a good sleeping condition for me. Cason came crying up the stairs fifteen minutes later. He had a headache. He flopped back on the floor where he had started. I'll admit I tried to ignore him for just a little bit longer. But one thing I'm learning is that being a parent is the greatest exercise in learning to become selfless. So I gave up on sleep. I scooped him up and snuggled him up and it was 1000 times better than sleep.
2 comments:
That's early. I'm thankful mine only get up at 6. :)
You guys are making me thankful that Jon doesn't get up until 7am. He used to sleep until 7:45 or 8am, but this past winter decided 7 was better. Guess I should be grateful? I wish they would sleep until 9 or 10!! :)
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