One thing she's not really down with yet, is sleeping without being held. Not her jam. What that means for us is, sleeping any kind of normal hours has become a thing of nostalgia. I find myself squeezing in naps at 5 or 6pm, and staying up until 2am on school nights. It's kind of like continuous jet lag, without the being on vacation part.
Last time I was up this late on the regular was college, where there were a bunch of other people up this late, too. There was a fairly accessible supply of mischief to get into, and bonds were formed over late night adventures. Well now, there's only one other person around, and she's pretty short on ideas for late night hijinks. And words. So I have to seek alternatives. Like this:
That would be the Jabberwock. And that would be Fiona, around 1am, galumphing happily underneath her manxome foe. Why? Because it's funny. And this is my idea of conditioning - I love Lewis Carroll's "Jabberwocky," and want Fiona to love it, too. So my scheme includes acquiring this terrifying stuffed creature, and having her interact with it from a very young age. Maybe he will end up as her favorite stuffed animal. He'll certainly be the only one capable of whiffling. She'll want to hear the poem as a bedtime story. I imagine Jabberwock at tea parties, or sleepovers. "Why Jabberwock, what lovely eyes of flame you have!"
See, this is why I say it's a weird experience.
Other late-night inspirations have been slightly more useful - one may even turn into an article I try to publish in a music journal. But mostly, these late nights have been more like the Jabberwock photo shoot, or watching soccer matches I'd missed, because I don't have the attention span to do anything mentally taxing.
Really though, so far parenthood has been pretty easy. Working part-time has really helped that, to be sure, but all things considered, this ain't half bad.