I woke up the other morning at my usual time for a weekday, sometime around 5:30. I don’t like that I have to get up that early, but my body has adjusted, and I don’t even need an alarm clock anymore.

Like I usually do, I headed right for the computer. I don’t even try to pretend to be anything other than obsessed with e-mail and social networking. It’s easier to admit you are a geek than to make up excuses to deny the fact.

So I logged into Facebook and started checking out what my friends had posted through the night. Thanks to the aforementioned geekdom and my big family and assorted other connections, I have a lot of friends on there.

At the top of my list was a post from one of the college students I knew from my last job. I like keeping in touch with them for many different reasons.

She also had just woken up. However, her status bemoaned being up “in the middle of the night.”

I had to laugh. I had totally forgotten that my usual wakeup time is an ungodly hour for so many people. I had forgotten that my college self would never believe that 5:30 a.m. would be a familiar time of day in the future.

I always wanted to be that guy who stayed up all night when I was younger. I had some college friends who regularly stayed up to see the sunrise. I could never handle that, even though I would stay up pretty late.

As I have gotten older, I kept telling myself I would stay true to my night owl roots. When I had the chance to stay up late, I tried to take advantage of it to the fullest.

But even that has started to change. When the clock would hit midnight on weekends, I would merely see that as an opportunity to pack in one more hour of fun.

Now I start to think twice and count in my head how much sleep I could get before I had to drag myself out of bed. I calculate the possibility of a nap and wonder how that will affect my sleep the following night.

I don’t like this new part of me, especially since I now have a kid who has mastered the art of sleeping in.

I’m jealous when I see her door still closed at 10 a.m. on the weekend. I really want to be under the covers at that time, but I need to make sure I get my morning walk in and worry about being available if Maria has to work or take care of some errand.

The best chance I have of sleeping at 10 a.m. is if I get back into bed after a busy morning for a nap. And don’t think the thought hasn’t occurred to me on a regular basis.

The worst part is that I have started to accept all of this. When I used to wake up early, I could blame it on parenting and spending time with my child. Now I don’t have that excuse anymore, and I’m just a guy who accomplishes things at 5:30 in the morning.

At least that clears up the rest of the day for me to nap.