Michelle was right when she said it’s not bad, it’s just different.  Saturday mornings are a great example of that. 

The Binja woke up a little before six, giving me enough time to pee before he went nuts in his crib. I went and got him and placed him in the pack-n-play, thinking he was going to go ape-shit soon if I didn’t have a bottle ready. But he just laid there and looked at me. I went and made a bottle and came back to find him.. happy. The child played for another 45 minutes before he showed the first sign of being hungry. He really just wanted someone to talk to.

After he ate, I put him back down and did a few minutes of Turbo Jam. It’s only 7:30 on a Saturday morning, and I don’t feel like I’ve wasted my morning, like I would’ve felt before I had a kid. I would’ve been so angry at myself for not sleeping in. But now? Now I feel like I got in a few extra hours with my baby, laughing and cooing. I got in some exercise. And hell, I got a blog post in.

If I had to pick between waking up to full room service in a down-feathered bed at a posh hotel, or waking up before dawn to play with a happy baby.. there wouldn’t be a choice.

I may buy a down-feathered bed, though. Why not have the best of both worlds?