I’m awake. It’s 5:00 in the morning. Everyone else is asleep. I should be asleep. I am allotted exactly one morning every two weeks when I could potentially sleep in. Today is that morning, but I’m awake.
Why? Because I have the cutest little inconsiderate 4-month-old alarm clock. He has no concept of time or of Mommy’s need for sleep. I wake up to the sound of him talking. And not just a couple of coos. He has an entire monologue that he’s prepared and saved just to share it with me at this ungodly hour. So I use the No Eye Contact Trick you use when you’re hoping the baby will go back to sleep. I change his diaper being careful to keep my gaze away from his face. I speak in soft soothing tones. All in hopes that when he’s dry and comfortable, he’ll realize that the world is very boring at this time of day and he’ll go back to sleep. He continues telling me all his goals and aspirations. I lay down next to him and try to hook him up to the boob. He’s not interested. He’ll latch on for a second, but then remember something else he wanted to tell me.
“Okay, Baby. The sun is not awake yet. We need to go night-night.” He doesn’t care to hear about the sleeping patterns of the sun, and he goes on to tell me his whole life story. If you think a 4-month-old doesn’t yet have a life story, you would be wrong apparently. I lie very still pretending to be asleep. Maybe he’ll get bored and follow suit. After a couple minutes, he gets very quiet. Did it work? I slowly open one eye to sneak a peek at him. I see his adorable little face looking up at me. It’s all over now. I see him. He sees me see him. He knows I’m not asleep. This new discovery gets him so excited, you would think Elmo just walked through the door. He’s kicking and flailing his arms around and laughing and squealing.
Fine, you won this time. I’m up. I’ll try again in two weeks. We go to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. And the baby’s passed out before it’s done brewing.