MLK Monday rambles

I'm sitting at Starbucks with a giant, probably not pregnancy-sized chai, enjoying a surprise afternoon break. Charles, thanks to his crazy busy travel schedule the last few months Arizona's desire to host Super Bowls MLK Day got a bonus day off while the clinic where he is rotating observes the day.

(Side note, Arizona really did lose the Super Bowl in 1993 because it did not observe MLK Day as a state holiday. Uproar ensued. The state promptly adopted the holiday, and now it is pretty widely celebrated around here.)

I need it too, thanks to one heck of a case of poor timing this morning. Last night, I had my first really, really bad night of pregnant sleep. Lots of trips to the bathroom and ninja-in-training action. Mr. Man is way over on my right these days, so when I lay on that side, he gets angry. Real angry. But my left needs a break every now and then, so . . . yeah. Then, while Charles was in the shower, Clare started crying. But it wasn't her up for the day cry. It was her middle-of-the-night distress cry. Nightmares? Teething? I don't know, but it usually takes about 20 minutes of rocking to get her back down for the count. Problem? Charles was mid-getting ready for the day that wasn't, and inadvertently woke her up. I knew it was inevitable, but fought it anyway. But alas, she was up.

And it was about 2 hours earlier than she normally gets up. Needless to say, we had a rough morning. She was too tired for a normal day, but not willing to go back to sleep and miss out on all of the fun of us being up and drinking "cahkee." By lunch, we were both over it. She went down for an early nap and was still sleeping when we took off.

Now, admittedly, I was awake when all of this happened, and probably would have gotten up and started hit the coffee within a few minutes. However, it would have been so much better if I had gotten up by my own free will. And been able to consume some caffeine before facing the day.

Old, but a fair depiction of the morning.

 The math inequality (people down the table are doing math lesson planning) no one ever taught me: alarm clock > baby. Seems truly improbable, but it's true. Alarm clocks are predictable. You can also turn them off. Babies are much less forgiving. And don't have snooze buttons.

All of which makes me nervous for the arrival of Mr. Man. I know that there will be a learning curve to figuring out how to parent two, and an even steeper learning curve to learning to navigate the inevitable exhaustion that comes from having a newborn + (crazy) toddler. I know I can do it. I know I will survive. I know that, eventually, I will thrive. But I also see how impatient and cranky I am when I'm too tired. I know that getting used to it and overcoming it will come with time. But the anticipation? That's the worst.

So, I'm trying, hard, to not think about it too much. I'm enjoying my time, my break, my afternoon. I'm enjoying this perfect Arizona weather. And letting Daddy enjoy Miss Cranky Pants for a bit. :)