Heather a/k/a Dooce complained in her blog today about getting woken at 6 by her adorable new baby, Marlo. That's right. 6 AM. Usually following a middle of the night waking (or two) and a family in the bed. I almost commented, then decided to "retweet..." or rather, I guess, retweet-by-blogging.
Heather, I got NOTHING FOR YA. I have to get up at 4 am if I want to have time to work out (meaning, alone, without kids trying to "help") or at 4:30 if I decide to skip the workout. That's so we can leave the house by 6:30 to get the kids to school/daycare and for me to meet the carpool. And bedtime is usually 10:30 or 11 (for me, anyway, they go down at 8) and the night is typically punctuated by a) a cat tossing up a hairball b) a dog deciding the dog bed isn't comfortable and needs to be rearranged c) a wet bed, d)even better, a kid announcing they are going potty (cause I needed to know they weren't wetting the bed and like I wouldn't have figured it out on my own when I found the un-flushed pee in the potty in the morning) or e) my own anxiety wakes me up at 3 am to remind me that my life is SCARY!
So Dooce, my dear, I love you to death, but dear GOD, woman, STOP MAKING ME JEALOUS! Its bad enough you have that adorable smooshy new baby, but now I think you're just taunting me with your 6 am wake up calls. Taunting me!
