I love sleep.
I don't anymore. Sleep, I mean. Well, not the way I used to.
If you want to test your character, take away guaranteed uninterrupted sleep. Notice I didn't say take away uninterrupted sleep, because of course parents (even if it is every once in awhile) get uninterrupted sleep. It's the fact that it is no longer a guarantee.
Z could not stir until 7.00, or he might wake up at 2.30, or 4.00, or 5.45 ... or all three.
That can really mess a person up.
Sometimes, I fantasize about what it's like to have the ability sleep in. Especially the first time I became kind of sick after having Z, that's when it really hit me.
I can't even sleep on a sick day.
To be honest, it has been kind of nice getting up early and being productive. On the reals, that's not even a silver-lining attempt at being okay with waking up with the sun every morning. I truly enjoy getting up and getting things done.
Every once in awhile though, I'd love to be able to sleep till eleven if I wanted. This may sound laughable, but I never realized how entitled I was about my sleep before having Z.
Like, the first few weeks I walked around all surly (and sleep deprived), and would snap at my husband and say things like, "I don't want to talk to people who get to sleep for eight hours in a row!"
It was a right, now it's a privilege.
One that I am fortunate to experience pretty often, because Z is (so far) a pretty decent sleeper.
And I am so thankful.