I have a new appreciation for five o'clock in the morning. Once, and not so long ago, I considered it a benighted part of the day. If awoken anywhere even remotely near five, I would grumble bitterly, cursing my ill fortune. Since Thorn's birth, however, five o'clock has become a glorious time. I am effusive at five. Ecstatic. I sometimes even do a little dance.
Why so joyous?
My waking at five these past two weeks has been a direct result of Thorn sleeping "through" the night. Sometimes we get five straight hours of sleep now, but most of the time it is closer to seven. How delightful. How marvelous.
I never thought I could appreciate seven hours of sleep as much as I do. I don't think you can unless your sleep is interrupted every hour or every two hours for a few months (or, if you happen to be a chronic insomniac). My earlier sleep patterns (eight to ten hours at a stretch) were, I now realize, tantamount to receiving one of Hera's golden apples.* Utterly priceless.
But, aside from all of my frivolity, this is also a milestone for Thorn. He's growing up. Quickly. He's beginning to "talk," and smile, and hold his head up without support. Every day something new, and now that the days begin so much earlier, I have more time to enjoy it all.
* We moderns don't use mythological references enough. Time for that to change.
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