I notice that a lot of day-loggers mention the hour at which they awake as an introduction to their commentary, which is a phenomenon that I find really interesting. I think that both for morning and non-morning people, waking up and taking stock of the day to come is an important part of the day, one that can be critical to the unravelling of the sixteen hours (or so) to come.

I woke up at three AM today, as my son was crying uncontrollably in his crib, and would only calm down when I brought him into bed with me and his mother. Being woken up doesn't really bother me any more (I think that it becomes habit after a while), and I have begun to appreciate that tranquil, magical moment when he drifts off, cradled in the arms of my partner.

This morning, however, in my reflection I came to the acute realization that E2 had truly invaded my soul. Falling asleep, I thought about noding, about things I could contribute, about how much it depresses me that I haven't been chinged in a while. (Yeah, I know, bitch bitch, moan moan).

I'm off tomorrow to visit my father and step mother, and I'm flying to Calgary with my son. I'm worrying about how I'm going to manage all of the crap I need to bring, and how Luca's going to deal with the flight. The last time we flew as a family, he was only six months old, and slept for five of the six hours in the air. This time, however, he's likely going to scream like a maniac for a good period of time. I am dreading not only the stress for him, but also the stress we're going to impart to (on?) our fellow passengers. I just hope that, given it's a morning flight, he might sleep for a couple of hours.