Thursday, January 8, 2009

Night Owls Don't Eat Pasta

I am most definitely a morning person. Not that I pop out of bed with a smile on my face each morning. I just don't have a lot of trouble getting up in the morning (well, I didn't used to have trouble getting up in the morning. These days, it depends on how many times I was woken up during the night... but, I don't think those nights that involve multiple interruptions should be included in the analysis). My point is, once the alarm goes off, I am awake. I may snooze it just for the joy of staying in my warm, cozy bed for 9 more minutes but, not because I can't tear myself out of bed. Even in my sleep-deprived state, I rarely snooze the alarm more than once. And, I do my best work in the mornings. I like mornings.

Evenings, on the other hand, are really not my thing. I've been going to sleep at 9 PM long before I had a baby "forcing" me to retire at such an early hour. Of course, now I am much more civilized about it all because I actually go to bed. As in the actual bed. Before, I would pretend that I could stay up late, but I never (or rarely) succeeded. It's true that I would be in the living room -- but, the awake part - not so much. I almost never made it past the 9:30 show... try as I might. 15 minutes into House (or Top Chef, or Project Runway), I was out like a light, waking up at 10:30 or 10:45, pissed off that there was a crick in my neck and asking Eric to detail the show I had just missed (a show that he likely had little interest in but that I insisted on "watching"). And, even if we were out for the evening (I realized re-reading this paragraph that I seemed to imply that I used to spend my evenings on the couch watching TV in the evenings...), I was known to start dozing at about 9 PM. And, yes, I've falled asleep in movie theaters and bars.

Eric, on the other hand, is a night owl. I cannot tell you how many times I have woken up at 2 AM to find myself alone in bed and Eric in the living room, glued to the history channel (we don't exactly share taste when it comes to television). So, naturally, the 6 or 7 AM alarm clock is a little harder for him to handle. I don't think he even hears it most of the time. And he is not at his best in the morning. In fact, he's been known to be a bit grumpy when woken up too early.

I figured babies were morning people. Everyone I've ever talked to complains about having to be up at 6 or 7 AM, ready for the day, just because their baby was up at that time. In fact, before having a baby, I never thought twice about making morning (i.e. 9 AM) calls to my friends with children, figuring they had been up for hours by that point. So, imagine my surprise to have a baby that is not a morning person, and who has been known to sleep in until 9 on more than one occasion.

So, this new schedule is proving to be a bit of an adjustment for Kailey. Now, three times a week, we have to wake her up at about 7 AM so that I can be in the car and off to Doug's by 7:30 AM. We let her sleep until the last possible moment, and then wake her up -- usually to this look:

Well, it's a more tired version of that. But, it definitely says, "go. away."

Granted, at this point Kailey is not a night owl either - although, for a baby, I think she is. Try as I might to get her to bed before 8:30, she won't have it. She falls asleep between 8:30 and 8:40 every night. Maybe when she is older, she won't embarrass herself by dozing off in the middle of a concert like her dear mom!

Beyond the new morning routine, the other big adjustment this week has been introducing more textured foods. I started with couscous, and it's not going so well. I find it rather amusing. Kai, on the other hand, thinks I'm trying to kill her -- death by a million tiny balls of pasta. I've given it to her every night this week, and every time, as soon as she takes a bite of it, she gets that look on her face (see above) and then sticks out her tongue, covered in couscous, and starts to howl. And then she begins blowing and spitting. The term "drama queen" comes to mind. I start laughing. She cries more. The whole meal goes downhill from there.

I'm going to keep trying, of course. She'll get used to it. In the meantime, it's sort of funny. Maybe I'll try to get a video of it (I'm so mean).

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