I remember a day pre-kids when 5:45 am was an awakening time saved for the rarest occasion. A fishing trip, an opening shift at McDonalds, or a procrastinated project to finish in college. And I can probably count all of these times on one hand. But ever since Nathan was born, 5:45 has become an all too familiar wake-up time. I have never been a big fan of extra sleep as there is just too much to do and there is so much I might miss out on if I am sleeping. I think that this is one of the many ways Nathan is just like me. Now over the last year or two it has gotten better. Depending on whether or not he napped and what time he went to bed he will stretch out his wake-up time until 6:30 or 7:00. This may seem early to most but it feels like sleeping in around here. Of course now that Isaiah is here he presents a whole new factor in when we wake-up.
Last night Jeremy worked night shift so in typical fashion I didn't get to bed until around midnight. For those of you who have to spend evenings alone for whatever reason, do you find it as hard as I do to crawl into bed without your spouse? Maybe it will get easier over time but since he is on rotating shifts I go through this every two weeks and it doesn't seem to get better. Anyway, Isaiah started fussing shortly after 1:00 so I sleepily dragged myself to his room and brought him back into my bed where I could nurse him and drift off to sleep. Fast forward to 5:30 and I can tell that nursing and snuggling is no longer going to cut it to keep him asleep. Jeremy must have gotten off work early because when I stretched out I found him passed out on his side of the bed. As I laid there trying to soak up every last minute that Isaiah would give me before it was absolutely necessary to get up with him, I heard stirrings from Thing 1 and Thing 2. Sure enough within 5 minutes half the lights in the house were on and they were on a mission to find something fun to play with. I knew I needed to track down a binky but was dreading leaving my dark warm room for the colder and way too brightly lit living room. Nonetheless I drug myself out of bed and fumbled into the living room grabbing for a binky in the last spot I remembered putting it. I found the boys at the living room table playing their new Go Fish game and reminded them to do so quietly so that the rest of us could get a little more sleep.
At this point I went back into my room and as I was wrapping Isaiah up tightly in his blanket I happened to glance up at the clock. 5:45 was staring back at me. I don't know what it is about that number but it just must be my fate. I began rocking and shushing my fussy baby and the sounds of the house became ever noticeable. Jeremy was snoring as so often is the case after his first night shift and being up for almost 24 hours straight. Grace, our clingy cat who is only comforted by my presence in a room, must have heard me stirring and was planted firmly outside my door crying for me to come out and keep her safe. The soundtrack began to play in a somewhat cohesive rhythm of snore, snore, rock, rock, shush, shush, MEEEOOOWW, "Brother, I got a 4!". This combination of noise could drive a sane person crazy at this hour in the morning, but for me, these are the sounds of my house. And while I would never turn down some extra sleep, I wouldn't trade in these noises for the silence we used to know.