Tuesday, December 9, 2008

I remember when 5 a.m. seemed closer to bedtime than breakfast time

The baby has stopped getting up at 5 a.m. (at least, temporarily…if she sees this in print, she is sure to start again, so I will cross it out right now..see, Baby? it's CROSSED OUT), so our early-morning runs have ceased. But this morning, I forced myself out of bed at 6 and sneaked out of the house to meet a friend for a dark, snowy run around the lake. My main motivation was the weather report, which predicted that temperatures would keep falling all day.

When we got back, the house looked dark: “Yessss! No one’s up yet, so I can shovel!” I reported to my (childless) friend cheerfully. She gave me a strange look, and after she left, I realized that, to a person without small kids, shoveling the sidewalk may not seem so luxurious. I should have told her I’d get to take a shower, I thought. Then I realized that taking a shower may not seem all that, either.

It reminded me of those first few months of motherhood, when I’d scurry home from the gym, longing for the time to stop at one of the cozy coffeeshops or bookstores. Almost four years later, those desires have long passed, replaced by simpler longings: Organizing the closet! Grocery shopping -- alone! Reading a book on the airplane! Eating raw cookie dough! And, if I'm really doing some serious fantasizing, going to a movie!* (When I am out past 8 p.m., I am boggled by the number of people out, when they could be in bed. Don’t they know what time it is?!)

I'm not alone: Emily recently confessed she looked forward to going to the dentist. “I almost fell asleep,” she told me. And I remember KC lamenting to another mom at music class shortly after the birth of her first son: "I just don't have time to moisturize!"

Anyone else got something better?

*I know this is the sort of thing that acts as superb birth control for my childless friends, so here's the truth: I do get to do all of these things occasionally -- I've seen at least three movies this year alone (four, counting Wall E), and I savor and appreciate them much more. And, to be honest, grocery shopping is more fun with the kids. Or kid, anyway.

5 comments:

Eric said...

Alarm clocks. This will be no surprise to parents, but I've not used one for 4 years. Much to my chagrin last week when home for a single night with the rest of the family still in Houston.

Sleep. It's not just the lack of sleep one gets with small children but the uncertainty. Last week at home and on business I had some very late flights that only gave me 6 hours to sleep, but felt more rested than most nights with 8hours of "uniterrupted" sleep bed with small children around. It's like you don't ever really sleep because they might be waking up soon and you have to stay a little awake to pay attention. Not to mention uninterrupted sleep basically doesn't exist. This morning I was up at 5:30 wondering how much more I would sleep, and all the way up at 5:50 with our little darling

Emily said...

Well, we're working on perfecting the art of ignoring the baby when he wakes up in the mornings. He coos and gurgles away for sometimes up to 45 minutes (!), while we keep our eyes closed, convincing ourselves that maybe he'll fall back asleep, and anyway, he doesn't sound upset, so it's not like he really Needs us to go get him or anything...

Erin said...

Yep. Birth control. Because I know you've got good kids, and it still seems impossible. :)

KC said...

We talk about this stuff all the time. Like, we'll be driving past a movie theater and one of us will say, "Remember when we used to go to movies?" and then we'll laugh wildly.

One thing that happened to me is that I started getting cavities after Shef was born - less time for oral hygiene.

Also, my mother-in-law, the eye doctor, suggested I apply a warm compress to my irritated eye this week, but I haven't been able to find the ten minutes to do that.

Sheila said...

I was going to mention the dental thing, too! I stopped using the electric toothbrush when No. 2 was born, because I could think of a thousand things I'd rather do w/ those two minutes.