I have always considered myself a morning person, an extreme lark even. At sleep-overs in junior high and high school, I usually woke up before the host parents and hours before my friends. On camping trips, I would be up long before my father - in order to keep me from bugging him to get up and light the fire, he started making giant piles of shavings the night before, so I could at least try to get it started on my own. When I was working, I would get up at 5 AM to go the gym before work, and would get up by 7 on weekends.
Lately, Malcolm has been showing us that he too is a morning person. Every morning for the last two weeks (at least - I am sort of losing track of time at this point) he has been up before 5:30. No amount of singing, nursing or cuddling makes him go back to sleep, and usually just makes him annoyed and prone to kicking. Since I am the one doing the nursing, I am the one who gets up with him most often. He's beginning to make me question my morning person designation.
After thinking about it for a while, I have decided that lack of sleep and his inability to recognize a weekend aside, the real problem is that I am not getting up of my own volition, and I am not getting up to have time to myself; I am being forced to get up by the most demanding drill sergeant ever. There is no peaceful contemplation of the sunrise while sipping tea. There is no meditation or tai chi. Just a very awake Malcolm. It isn't all bad - we are easily able to get our daily walk in before the sun is up enough to require sunblock, at least - but I wouldn't complain if he suddenly decided to sleep in as late at 6 AM.
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