It’s no secret to any of my friends and family – I am not a morning person.
The earlier it is in the morning, the crankier I am.
In fact, the length my crankiness lasts throughout the day can be anticipated by measuring in 15 minute increments how much earlier than 7am I was woken.
I prefer 8am. I can just manage 7am, and 6:30am is about as far as I can stretch the goodwill. I have been like this my whole life.
I have always been, and always will be, a night owl. Give me 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep and I’m better than on 9.
UNLESS you wake me before 6:30am. Wake me before then and you wanna hope I’ve had 12-18 hours of unbroken sleep. I mean it.
So, it came as quite the rude shock that after having Roo – the dream baby everyone tells you doesn’t exist but really truly did – who slept the slumber of a 100 years every night (okay, maybe only 11 hours but it was Uh-May-Zing) – that the Two had no plans of sleeping. Ever.
Pal and I somehow managed to survive 8 long months of being woken almost on the hour, making it through a 30 minute feed X 2, and then doing it all again in another half an hour.
It was insane. We were getting up to 30 minutes sleep at a time, three times a night.
Eventually, I learned to feed the Two in my sleep.
And by this I mean that I slept, Paul would get up, put one or both babies on the boob (including helping them attach), and I slept topless, holding my breasts at just the right angle.
At 8 months, the Two and Pal and I graduated to between 3-4 hours sleep a night. Broken. But it felt like HEAVEN!!!
I can’t even describe to you the joy of their first four hour block of sleep. Can’t even. They were about 13 months old.
These days, I can’t believe we all survived, let alone thrived.
Well, I didn’t thrive. But they did.
At about the age of 2.5, still not sleeping through (up to 3 wake ups a night), the two began waking at 4:45am. Nearly every morning. Some mornings, they slept until 5:15am.
And because this lasted so long (as in only ended about 6 months ago), we began to believe that 5:15am was a sleep in.
Yes. We “slept in” until 5:15am.
If we were feeling loving or grateful to our spouse, Pal and I might let the other sleep in until 6:30. That’s a lie. Mostly Paul let me sleep in. And sometimes even until 9am on his days off because he is a miracle, I tell you.
And that’s how 5am became acceptable to me. Because it wasn’t 4:45am.
That’s right, if you want to get used to 5am, it’s going to take you up to three years of systematic torture in the way of sleep deprivation.
Now the Two often sleep until about 6:30 or 7am. It’s pretty awesome.
And me? I’m changing too.
Sometimes, I set my alarm for 6am. Yes.
S I X A M.
I have nowhere to be. Nothing important to do.
Except go for a run.
FOR. A. RUN.
Who even am I?
I’ll tell you who I am: I’m a powerful, strong woman. I’m motivated and dedicated. I am learning to run. I am learning to LOVE running. And I set my alarm for earlier than I deem civilised just to be able to run when its not 40°C.