I’ve always been a night person. I have always had an incredibly hard time waking up in the morning. I don’t know why, it just is. Five years in the military couldn’t change me. I spent those five years terrified I wasn’t going to get up in time for work. Now ten months into having a baby, I wake up before my alarm more often than not.
Now, I’m not saying that I’ve been “cured” of my night person affliction. I guess having the baby and more responsibility has just helped get me up easier. Mind you, I’m still barely functional in the morning. I still don’t feel ready to tackle the world before about noon, and still have my clearest moments late at night.
But for whatever reason, waking up on the weekend is much harder than work days. I guess decades of sleeping weekends away have left a permanent mark on my being. I’m extra zombieish on a Saturday morning.
Yesterday I got up with the baby and took her downstairs to get started on her new found freedom from the teat. Allegedly, it’s easier to wean the last meal if the husband does it (a little suspicious it being the morning one). I didn’t have much success in getting her to drink any formula, so that theory doesn’t seem to be working yet.
Aside from being awake, there’s another downside to my mornings. Now, this is something that Karen is extremely jealous of. I’m one of the most regular people in world. It’s not necessarily a time thing, but a reaction to time thing. It doesn’t matter what time I wake up; shortly after, I’ve gotta go. Sometimes I can fight nature and hold off for quite a while. Yesterday was not one of those times. The power was too much for me to overcome.
Courtney is over there eating her bananas and honeydew. I’m cutting up more honeydew and the first wave of the NOW ATTACK hits. Conveniently (or not), Courtney is over there pushing out a big one – teary eyes and all. It’s not unlike having to pee very badly during a downpour. I felt really bad to rouse Karen from bed to come down and watch the baby while she ate, but I had to go, NOW.
Karen took it all pretty well, but she did point out that when it happens to her she pulls the chair over to the bathroom door. Normally I’d think that’s a pretty good idea, but the only bathroom on the same level as the kitchen has a “nut dragger” toilet. You know, the tiny little round bowl toilets that were clearly designed by a woman.
I like to have room to breath while things happen. I’m still surprised that they even make those tiny things this day and age. I mean, I thought Americans were all about excess and big things. Guys shouldn’t have to tuck things during such times. I’m just saying.
I know, TMI.
You’re really starting off the week on a high note here!