It's okay to go to bed at 7:30 on a Saturday, right?
It's not out of boredom, or because we simply don't have anything better to do. It's not because we didn't get invited to any good parties this week. It's not like I'm ashamed of the fact that I start yawning shortly after 7 p.m.
It's more like, hallelujah, I made it to 7:30! while doing a little raise-the-roof action with my arms.
One difference I've observed about being a second-timer on this whole pregnancy business is that the narcolepsy I so enjoyed the first time 'round hasn't kicked in.
Don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm not exhausted. I still am. With gusto (which is ironic, since I haven't had the energy for gusto in weeks, but moving on...).
Evidently, though, my brain isn't able to shut down as well as it did the first time. I think it must have something to do with that whole already being responsible for another human being thing. It just keeps your brain ticking.
And, at the risk of oversharing, last pregnancy I woke up every morning at 3 a.m. like clockwork because I had to tinkle. It was perfect timing, because it left me plenty of time to hit the sack before my alarm went off at 5. I was such a zombie that I could sleep-pee, a fact I'm actually quite proud of. I think it deserves some kind of stupid-human-trick medal or something.
This time, not only can I not sleep-pee, I also wake up an hour later. Knowing I have to get up at 5 for work makes it pretty much impossible to go back to sleep. So, in addition to the fact that falling asleep is more ellusive, I've taken to getting up at 4 am pretty much every day.
It's not my favorite pregnancy trick ever, but I know it's worth it.