Hour Zero: Little Dude Time

I've come to realize over the past ten days that the hour on the standard clock doesn't really mean much at all. Lately, I'm running on a variable-time clock that resets itself every two to four hours, depending. On the little dude, that is...

Currently, it's about 2:45, Little Dude Time (LDT). For the rest of you, it happens to be 3 a.m. You'd think I'd be sleeping, but thanks to Adam practically locking me in our room when he got home from work last night, I had just woken up from a 3+ hour nap the last time Stormy woke up. And I have been famished for two hours and 3o minutes, LDT, on account of sleeping through dinnertime and taking care of you know who for the last couple of hours. But what goes up, must come down; and he's down for the count. For a little while anyway...

So, I'm here, letting it all out, and relishing in the fact that I just ate a bowl of Cheerios in the middle of the night. In fact, I should go ahead and stuff my face some more, while I have the time! *mentally scanning the kitchen pantry* I could have anywhere from 15 minutes to another hour before the LD clock resets. And I'd venture to lie down for a few minutes of that time, but if it's only 15 minutes I have, waking up would be sheer torment to my nervous system.

Really, that nap did wonders, I tell you. This is the first night I haven't wanted to cry for the past few. Don't get me wrong, this kid loves to sleep! And he's more than willing to let us catch some zees too. But my brain has been in a continuous debate with my body since we came home from the hospital. Do I get the stuff done I need/want to get done, or do I sleep? I'm trying to find a balance between the two somehow. A lot of times, I'll lie down to rest only to find that I'm creating To Do lists in my head. And then there's always one last thing to do before I can really relax enough to drift off.

Last night, I called Adam into our room (after lying there for a few minutes trying to read myself into a sleepy submission) under the pretense of asking him to turn on the ceiling fan. Then: Hey, would you make sure Stormy doesn't roll over? He needs another blanket to keep him up on his side, I said. Ok, he answered, and began to shut the door. I could tell he was onto me... Before the door hit the casing, it reopened with Adam sticking his head back in and saying, Everything's ok now; go to sleep, and the door closed behind him. And I cried...from utter exhaustion hitting me full-force, from feeling like I was abandoning my child, from the pure relief of knowing that I could actually sleep soundly for a while...I don't really know why. But I cried myself to sleep. Oh, don't worry; it took all of three minutes before I passed the fuck out for over three hours. LOL!

Yeah, I've heard it a million times already: Sleep when the baby sleeps. And I do actually take a nap most afternoons, sometimes holding him in my arms. Other times when he's sleeping, I just watch him breathing in and out and listen to his soft baby noises, amazed by the fact that he's here and that he's so beautiful. And other times, I scurry around the house, trying to cram in some laundry and dishes before Hour Zero comes around and we start all over again. It's all about balance. (And it helps to have a husband who's willing to force you to lie down and take care of yourself once in a while!)

Every day, I take a little time of my own to remind myself how truly fortunate we are to have the time together that we have as a family, no matter who's clock we're running on.