It’s the first piece of advice I hear from any current parent I know. I love them for it. And I hate them for it at the same time.
Love, because sleeping is by far one of my favorite things to do on God’s green earth. Anyone telling me to do more of it is an automatic friend. Hate, because the implication here seems to be that I’m about to kiss my bedded bliss goodbye for good. Or for the next 18 years or so, anyway. Yuck.
As luck would have it though, the powers-that-be at NBC17 are helping prepare me for the sleepless life even before the actual arrival of my own personal sleep-sucker. 35 weeks into my pregventure and I am now officially working mornings. And when I say “mornings,” I mean “middle-of-the-nights.”
My alarm goes off at 2am. No kidding. I’m out of bed, on the road and ready to rock (in full hair and make-up) when most people are still hours away from hitting the “snooze” button for the first time. And yes, it is totally bizarre.
I’ve actually heard working “mornings” is a really good baby schedule. “You’re not sleeping anyway, so you might as well be up and doing something.” seems to be the prevailing school of thought. And while I can think of numerous other “somethings” I could be doing (catching up on DVR’d episodes of “Oprah”, snarfing down chocolate chip cookies, hitting myself over the head w a sledgehammer in an effort to get myself back to dreamland), there are worse things than being done with your work-day by noon.
But this schedule really does some weird things to your bod. And at a time when your body is already weirded out by the (albeit adorable, loved, and much-anticipated) stranger taking up residence in there at the same time, it makes for some interesting, um… shall we say “sensations.”
This kiddo is dancing up a storm these days. I get that she’s excited (it’s the girl pronoun’s turn. Don’t read into this people, I know nothing, I promise!) to get out and party with me and Jake, but for real… sometimes I want to just tell her to chill and sit this one out. Between my internal baby dance-party and the results of my 6am chicken burrito “lunch,” it’ll be a miracle if all my parts are still in the right place by the time I actual give birth.
Somehow though, I seem to be adjusting ok. 5 nights of 4-5 hours of sleep and I’m still here. Middle-of-the-night feedings here I come.
Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s almost noon… I’m off to go cook dinner.
