Curfew revisited

Last summer, I wrote a post full of frustration because I had to be home on a lovely summer night when I wanted to be out.

Vasu, Ronin, and I had gone to the Carrboro Music Festival, which happens in the depths of the warm lazy summer, and as the cool shadows of evening were starting to creep across the day and all sorts of mischief was about to begin, we had to go home to get Mister to bed. My commitment to nursing meant that I always had to be there, at every bedtime, to nurse my boy to sleep.

I used to resent it, but dag, I love nursing him to sleep now. And I love to think of the cumulative effect of all of these naps and nights and how they've bonded us. But I digress. What a difference a year of parenthood makes.

In the winter, Ronin started going to sleep by about 6:30 p.m., which was fine with us, because it was pitch black dark and we were dawg tired and asleep ourselves by 9. Once he started sleeping through the night, he'd still wake up by 5, full of vigor and enthusiasm and ready to embrace the day.

These early bedtimes and early mornings have broken us. We no longer really expect to have a life. But now, the days are stretching out and the evenings are long and sweet and sunny. Ronin's afternoon nap went until 5 today, so we played with keeping him up later, staying out and lounging on the Weaver Street lawn, drinking beer and eating Chinese food until SEVEN FREAKING FIFTEEN at night.

By the time we got Ronin through his bath, he had begun to break down. He started trying to nurse Vasu's nose and mouth when Vasu tried to kiss him. He fell asleep by 8 p.m., but boy, was he shot.

With all of this spring cavorting, we're hoping that a latter bedtime will lead to later rising...Ronin is perfectly pleased to get up at 5 a.m. but his parents are so very tired after a year of sweet early mornings.

We are crossing our fingers that 7 a.m. could be within our reach...

After a year of being a mother, so many things have changed. But considering that now 7:15 p.m. is late for me to be out and about on the town, and that 7 a.m. is my greatest hope for sleeping in, I've noticed that my ideas about impositions on my time have flexed quite dramatically.

Oh, and honestly, although he keeps baby hours, Ronin can't possibly be a baby. JUST LOOK AT HIM IN THIS PICTURE. Doesn't he totally look 30 years old? How is it possible?