Time Change (or, Why I needed a real latte this morning…)

Normally, I have a hot chocolate in the mornings with just a splash of coffee. It’s enough caffeine to keep me going until about 4, and by then, a simple walk around the office is enough to perk me up again. But today…

Baby C is teething. And, for some weird reason, this round seems much worse than the other rounds. (It may be because I’ve had a couple of months reprieve from the teething monster.) Not only that, but he’s peeing a lot, which means lots of wet diapers and subsequent diaper changes. Oh, and he’s also congested with a very runny nose. (I’m giving him lots of extra water because of the congestion, which explains why there’s a lot of pee. I’m paranoid when it comes to dehydration.)

Anyway, last week, he sort of readjusted to the West Coast/East Coast time change. He never really adjusted to West Coast time, so I don’t think it was too difficult of a transition back. However, this weekend was a doozy. Which explains why I’m dragging so heavily today.

Yesterday, Cute Husband took Miss J’s Flat Stanley to Disney World – to all four parks. He and Flat Stanley had a blast, I’m sure. Meanwhile, I stayed home with Baby C, who would instantaneously flip between giggling, delightful Happy Baby to screaming Cranky Baby. I’m sure you can guess which version I prefered. Anyway, by the time Cute Husband got home, I was starving (Baby C, however, was not, as he had consumed copious amounts of food, as is his norm), exhausted from chasing after him while simultaneously attempting (operative word there) to clean the house, and very close to the proverbial edge. So, once Cute Husband came home and I had a chance to eat half of a very long baguette, I eagerly left my husband with Happy Baby (who waved good-bye to me – only the second time I’ve seen him wave to anyone) and ran my errands.

Cute Husband was exhausted last night from traversing all of Disney World, and because he was sore, I offered him some Advil PM to help him sleep. Baby C was Cranky Baby when bedtime rolled around, but he ultimately went to sleep and allowed me a few moments to resume my attempts (operative word again) at cleaning the house. Except that he woke up every hour and a half for one reason or another. First, I think it was his teeth. Then he needed a diaper change. Then he wanted to nurse. I didn’t go to bed until midnight, wasn’t asleep until 12:30, and was awakened just 15 minutes later. Which meant I didn’t fall back asleep until almost 1:30. Thankfully, that was the last awakening of the night.

At 6:30 this morning (which, pre-time change, was really 5:30), as Cute Husband was getting ready for work, I heard a familiar cry. It wasn’t a real cry, more of a “Oh, it’s morning and I so wish I didn’t have to wake up but as I’m awake you might as well wake up, too” cry. The same kind of cry I do when I hear this cry, only much more vocal. (My cry is a very internal cry, and not nearly as effective in waking others around me.) I pulled the covers over my head and asked Cute Husband to look after him for a few minutes, just long enough to let me use the bathroom and get dressed.

And I’ve been up ever since.

I really shouldn’t complain. After all, I got five uninterrupted hours of sleep. There used to be a time when I would have sold my left kidney for that.

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