Next year, I'm just going to bed an hour earlier.
The puppy (who is crated in our room at night) usually is a great sleeper - except for the snoring, but I can get past that. He picked this morning, at about 4am, to wake up and whine that soft but high-pitched whine that slices through your subconscious like splinters under the fingernail. I do my best to ignore him and manage to drift off to sleep again. If there's one thing he's learned in his relatively short time here, it's that whining will not get him out of the crate now that I know he's able to control his bladder for the entire night.
The children don't understand what daylight savings is. Monkey will sleep late, if you can call 7:00 late, but Little Man follows a different drummer. At 6:30 am (and this is before I turned back my clocks, so that makes it 5:30 am), Little Man comes climbing on my bed and uses my prone body as a guide to crawl to the top of the bed - as if falling off my body will dump him into a deep abyss. Once he reaches the pillows, he finally climbs off and asks to be covered up and lays still for a little while.
Have you seen The Lion King? Remember the scene where Simba gets up and plays with his sleeping parents trying to wake them up by crawling all over them and talking to them when they OBVIOUSLY don't want to be woken up? Does Simba stop? No. Does Little Man? No.
Just as I thought he was drifting off, he becomes one with Simba and starts crawling all over the bed and talking about breakfast. Things like cereal and waffles and such.
"Let's go back to sleep."
"But I'm really, really hungry."
Damn his cuteness.
So yes, I'm up at my "normal" weekend wake-up time of 6:30am despite the fact that I was supposed to get an extra hour of sleep. Making pancakes from scratch because I'm out of my mix. At least there's coffee.
Yeah, next year, I'll just go to bed at 9:00 to get that extra hour of sleep.
(I'll be posting a Halloween post once I get my pictures downloaded from the camera. I know I'm a little late, but that's how I roll.)
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