The-Child-That-Does-Not-Sleep finally went to sleep last night. He cried so hard before he passed out that for the first hour of slumber he had those giant hitches in his breath, where his lower lip gets sucked into mouth like a tire flap on an eighteen wheeler, from being asleep and still contemplating crying. Zac and I both slept through the night. When I woke up this morning, I realized how rare that was for me. I blame Zac for a lot of my fatigue, but really, I have my own sleeping issues. Months of getting up 2-3 times a night have trained my bladder that it really wants to be emptied at 2am or my subconscious that wants to be reassured that everything really is all safe and sound in the apartment.
It also helps that the weather is thinking about breaking. Today's high is 8o-ish degrees, which is still way, way too hot for mid-November. At night, my apartment gets down to 68-70 degrees. It feels like a cool glass of lemonade after the summer of sweat sleeping at 82 degrees.
My electricity bill is also dropping rapidly with the temperature. I'm no longer worried about leaving my cat in the apartment without cracking open a window and I don't wake up in a tangled mess of wet sheets and pillows. It's not all birds and sunshine over here, but at least I'm not cursing the morning for coming so damn early.
It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do for your perspective.