We looked at the clock, then turned our gazes toward our son’s bedroom. Unbelievable. He was still asleep. He had slept between fifteen and forty-five minutes longer than usual. And when I say “usual”, I mean, “almost always.”
“Well, Emily, why don’t you just say what you mean in the first place?”
Number one, some people who say “usual” mean “half the time” or “a slight majority of the time.” I wanted to be clear that I meant something over 97% of the time.
Number two, I need to have enough words in this blog post so that when a person first glances at it, they will think I am saying something Big And Important because it’s longer.
Now, can I get on with the story? Thank you.
B slept another ten minutes…another ten…another ten…and then finally, he woke up.
At the late hour of 6:45.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, his typical wake-up time is between five-thirty and six-o’clock in the morning. Since his preschool-age years, this has been so. As a baby and toddler, he would wake up for the day between seven and seven-thirty, but that was after waking up between five-thirty and six o’clock to nurse.
He’s never gotten all the sleep that child experts claim children need.
And until recently (“recently” meaning the day we let him start playing video games or watching YouTube as soon as he got up, thus ensuring our sanity and desire to live), he would start driving us crazy the minute he got out of bed. Demanding our attention. Employing all sorts of mischief to get it.
We needed some quiet time to ourselves in the morning before we could face his never-ending energy. So we got into the habit of getting up at four-thirty.
Yep. You heard me right.
And that, without any livestock to milk or feed.
Once in a while we indulge ourselves and lie in bed for an extra fifteen minutes. And that’s only for one of two reasons: one, I’m experiencing perimenopausal fatigue and don’t want to get out of bed; or two, I need to talk through a problem with J, and when we’re snuggling together in the morning he is my captive audience.
Things are different with B now, and we could probably go to bed a little later and get up a little later and still maintain our sanity. But, like I said, it’s become a habit.
And we hardly ever oversleep.
The other day, though, our trip to the health food store two-and-a-half hours away, combined with the 100-degree heat, must have really done a number on us. I woke up from a dream the next morning, and upon opening my eyes, noticed that it was much lighter outside than it usually is when we get out of bed. I reached for the watch between our pillows, looked at the time, and gasped.
Keeping my voice low so as not to awaken our son, I shouted to J the time. He had actually been sleeping, but at my words jolted awake and was out of bed in the next five seconds.
We had overslept. Big time.
It was ten minutes after five.