Here's the picture we're using on Christmas cards:
I think it's pretty cute, if I do say so myself.
I am also discovering - cue dramatic music - that I need more sleep than I thought I did. I know this may seem obvious, like, "Hello, you have a TODDLER!", but I've gotten by on very little sleep for almost my whole life. I started being afraid of the dark after I saw the movie E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial when I was four or five, and I didn't really sleep well again until, oh, say, college. You know, when I started drinking. I used to stay up reading sitting under my desk by my nightlight when I was 8 or 9, reading with a flashlight when I was older, listening to the radio on my walkman, watching late-night TV. I have seen many more episodes of The Patty Duke Show, Dobie Gillis, Mr. Ed and The Twilight Zone than a lot of other people my age. I also remember infomercials for such long-gone products as DidiSeven (a stain remover) and of course, the ThighMaster.
I felt like I had trained myself to cope on very little sleep as a kid, 6 hours a night at the most, more like 4 or 5 all through high school, and then college it's the same thing. Go to classes, go to work, stay up writing papers and reading and studying (and partying, and drinking and smoking, and staying up late talking about existential crises). Then real life with it's work and email and phone calls and grueling TV watching schedule, roller derby practice and knitting Christmas presents. Then baby, and feeding and changing and trying to keep your house and job from falling apart around you. Finally we've reached the point where Charlotte pretty much goes down to bed at 8 and sleeps through until 7:45 or so in the morning (knock on wood! knock on wood!). And then I'm working all day, taking care of Charlotte all day, and I don't finish work until midnight, and hopefully am in bed by 12:30 or 1 am. To me, sleeping from 12:30 to 7:30 seems like it should be more than enough sleep - dude, that's almost 7 hours! But last night I just could not cope and went to bed at 10:30. I woke up at 7:00, when the alarm clock went off the first time, and I didn't feel any resentment at all! I just thought, "Wow, I'm refreshed, I guess it IS time to get up!" That's so bizarre to me. I've always hated getting up, had to drag myself out of bed, exhausted and miserable.
It's weird to think that maybe my problem is not that I'm "not a morning person" and just that maybe I need to sleep more. Huh.
Unfortunately, that revelation is not exciting in any useful sort of way. I went to bed last night needing to do two more hours of work that I will have to make up later this week, and with a sink full of dishes that need to be washed. I also didn't shower, knit baby booties, or do anything else that needed to be done. So while I have concluded that I do need to sleep more, I've also concluded that I don't have time to sleep more. Oh well. That's the story of everyone's life, right?