I wish I were a better sleeper. One of the things I inherited from my mother is her difficulty getting to sleep. It isn’t insomnia or anything too terrible, but o do have a hard time convincing myself to go to sleep.
There is a point where my body says “Now!” and if I miss that moment that could mean a few extra hours of staying awake. And on some evenings that “Now” never comes.
This also goes for waking up. Sure, I can sleep through an lot, by I can also be a light sleeper. And when I wake up getting back to bed can be a difficult matter.
And I have a son. He is still a little guy so I can’t say for sure if he will come with the same problems. He wakes up early now, but I imagine he will change and then change again.
But for now he wakes up. Sometimes it is with a sudden cry. Sudden it is with whimpers of wanting to go to the other room. But often it is with happy little noises of content playing. Sure, sometimes, since his sleeping area is near the end be of our bed, that happy playing is with my or my wife’s toes.
Even though I wish I were a better sleeper and I greatly enjoy having a relaxing morning where I can eat a bowl of cereal, drink some coffee and watch the news by myself, I so greatly enjoy having the first thing I see be my little guy’s smiling face.
It just starts the day off right. I smile back at him. Say hello. We share a quick laugh and maybe a hug.
And then I go start the coffee pot. I’m only human.
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Deadly Troubadour 