Jeramy and I both love sleep. More accurately, we both have lifelong passionate affairs with sleep. When I was pregnant, we feared that we would somehow cancel each other out, ending up with a crazy morning person/light sleeper for a child, but instead we combined our genetics to create a super-sleeper. Of course, when Simon was an infant, we went through the usual day/night confusion thing, the not wanting to nap unless being held thing, and even the “No, thank you, I would rather sleep in your bed than my bassinet, thanks.” thing. But by the age of one, our little guy was sleeping in his own room, through the night, usually 12 hours, with a fairly regular nap routine. I thank the universe for this every day.
So, whenever his sleep schedule becomes interrupted, especially if it is thrown off several days in a row, we inevitably end up with a day or two of catch-up. When this happens, Simon goes from a super-sleeper to a mega-tremendous-outstanding-sleeper. This he was last night.
Some out-of-state relatives have been in town, and yesterday we went to a big family dinner to visit with them. This meant that Simon not only ended up out way past his bedtime, but also was so full of food (mostly dinner rolls and pickled beets) that his tummy looked like it was threatening to topple him over forward.
Probably needless to say: big meal+late night=crashed out toddler. So this morning, Simon combined his night of sleep and his nap, something he does every once in a while. When my eyes blinked at the clock at 11:30 a.m., and I heard the sounds of deep snoring over the baby monitor, I was only a little bit alarmed, having seen him do this a couple of times previously.
I was able to spend about 20 minutes to myself, making coffee and reading in the quiet house, and enjoying the sun beaming in the windows. Simon finally woke and joined me in the kitchen, to munch cereal and slurp yogurt while commentating on the “Beeeg Cars!!!” out the window as they drove by.
We have plenty going on later, so a nice slow morning afternoon was a perfect way to begin our day. Especially in this family of non-morning people.
thismummaslife 
January 24, 2012 at 4:44 pm
11:30. 11:30. 11:30. I repeat this to myself after reading this post because I can’t imagine it, and I long for one, just one morning of 11:30 slumber. Alas, my 7 year old has inherited someone’s (must be way back in both of our gene pool) morning-ness, because, without fail, at 5:30 every morning, I wake to the feeling of someone staring at me. “Hi, Mom.” Good thing he’s so cute. 🙂
http://amysreallife.wordpress.com
January 24, 2012 at 7:27 pm
Awww. I know my guy is an anomaly among children. Also, the 11:30 is rare. It is usually more like 7:30-8, but I know even that is a blessing. At least now that yours is 7 you don’t have to do the mad diaper change/potty time rush.