So as the father of an 8-9 month old--especially as the father of the "fussiest baby in the world"(TM)--I have noticed a strange phenomenon. I have gotten accustomed to going through my days in what can only be described as a hazy fog. I have always been a morning person (I know, it's pretty disgusting). Before the baby, I would get up at 0530 and be at work by 0700, and be in a damn good mood. I would leave work around 1500 and be home and relaxing (at least I think that's what I used to do) within the hour. This is one of the better ways to avoid the DC traffic, or so I have found.
Now, my routine has shifted a bit.
After being "on duty" with the "fussiest baby in the world"(TM) until 0200, I get about 3-4 uninterrupted hours of sleep per night (on average). My alarm goes off right on schedule at 0500. I have absolutely no recollection of this on any given morning. I sometimes have a vague memory of slapping the large snooze button on the top of the clock with a satisfying *THWACK*, but this could also be a sweet, sweet dream. I fall out of bed (it's a gigantic bed) and stumble towards the bathroom so I can get ready for the day (whee).
For the next 30-45 minutes I am sure I shower/shave/get all dolled up, and get dressed. I also have no recollection of this on any given morning. I take the dog outside and do my final prep work for leaving the house.
I kiss the wifey and Pumpkin and head out for the day.
On a good day, my commute takes about an hour. In DC traffic, the good days are few and far between. For this hour+, I zone out like nobody's business. I seriously get to work sometimes and have no clue how I pulled it off.
I pour a very large cup of pretty good coffee (I love my office, we have cool little individual-cup coffee machines with tons of nifty flavors) and wake up about 15 minutes later.
I repeat this process all week long. The best way I can describe it is that it's a little bit like watching your life happen through really, really old glass. It's smoky and blurry, but you recognize everything, vaguely.
I can't remember what it was like to sleep for 8 hours a night. The baseline of restfulness you have as a footloose and fancy-free non-parent is just impossible to comprehend. The fun part for me is that I know I am not alone. I can tell another "hazy fogger" a mile away. Just the other morning I was walking through a parking garage and I watched a guy (30ish) getting out of his car. He took 2 steps, armed his alarm, then realized he had forgotten something. He went back to retrieve whatever it was then armed his alarm again. He repeated this process 3 times.
As I walked past his car, sure enough, there was an infant seat in the back and a baby on board sign in the window. Hazy fogger.
All the childless folks out there have no idea just how surrounded they are. Next time you are in traffic in the morning, look to your left, then look to your right. Chances are, one of those people is a hazy fogger.
Tune in next week when my topic will be: "Sleep Deprevation and its Effects on Short Term Memory"
-Londo
xxx
3 comments:
We are everywhere, aren't we? Just think what we could do if we all joined forces!
Hazy foggers of the world unite! And we will... Crap, is that the baby crying?
Wait, what was I saying?
I've been pondering the fact recently that one of the hidden benefits of infertility is an extension of the time in which we are able to sleep through the night, sleep in on weekends (hungry beagles notwithstanding), take luxurious vacations, and just enjoy the peace and cleanliness of our quiet home. :)
Yeah, I look back on our three years of trying as bonus time. Minus the time it took to go through treatments. Although even then, we usually got to sleep in and we were able to go on a couple vacations, when timed right.
It still really sucks to go through.
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