At Least He Wasn't Crying...?

The last few days Micah has been awake at precisely 5:54am (less the 10 minutes my clock runs fast). I have been bringing him to bed at that time, where he nurses quietly until 6:20 when Andrew gets up and showers with him. Then I get a blissful 30 extra responsibility-free minutes of sleep. While the day starts a little earlier than I'd like, it's a sustainable arrangement.

This morning Micah was awake at 5:15. Not crying to get our attention, which is good. But singing. Loudly. Which we could probably tune out. But we don't expect Eva to tune it out, since she sleeps in a bed right next to him. (We recently redubbed her room the playroom and moved her to the bed in Micah's room. We are reconsidering the wisdom of this decision). Andrew tried to convince him to go back to sleep without success and finally brought him into our room. There, the situation deteriorated. The loud singing was punctuated by loud cries as he railed against my strong suggestions that he lay down quietly. Eva let loose with an anguished, frustrated cry. Andrew went to attend to her. Again I was up long before I cared to be up. Ah well.

I remember wee me dashing into my parents' room in the mornings, raring to go. I remember my mom's groggy requests for more sleep and I remember that I didn't understand how she could possibly still be sleepy. And I also remember their admonishments to teen me that I was wasting my day by sleeping in to the noonday hours. And I know that soon enough I'll have the opportunity to sleep in again and I won't want it!