My son likes to wake early. This is nothing new. He has spent the last 2 years, 2 months and five days doing it. Yawn. I like to tell myself that it’s because mine and my husbands company is so wonderfully fulfilling, but it doesn’t feel like that at 4.15, or whenever he chooses to start his day.
Today it was 5.08. My new Fitbit helpfully told me that I had one section of sleep lasting 1h 40, where I had to get up with my daughter, and then a second deliciously long section of 3h 49, with a sleep efficiency rating of 92%. This should be no surprise to anyone who knows me. I am super efficient. It’s also asked me to set some sleep goals.
My sleep goals are as follows. I would like to crawl into bed at 9.30, and fall asleep after a short read of my book (currently We Need To Talk About Kevin), I would like to wake, feeling refreshed about a week, ok 3 weeks later having caught up on the sleep I have missed out on over the past couple of years.
Aim high, right?
The two least photogenic TDF’s. I can only pretend that I said “pull a stupid face!”
On the upside, my son has been delightfully entertaining me since we came downstairs. He has snuggled, made me cups of imaginary tea/hot chocolate/soup, several times completed a puzzle that his elder sister has never bothered with, and turned repeatedly round on the spot trying to look at his back (snarf!). It IS a special time that we share, and I love the cuddles. I love that he is himself – not winding his sister up, or competing against her for attention. I just wish it was an hour or two later in the day!