It's two in the morning and I am toasty warm in my bed. My sheets feel like velvet against my skin and I imagine my pillow and mattress are fluffy white clouds. I am at peace in my soft comfortable bed so my lips curl into a smile. My eyes are still closed because I am still asleep, well at least I was asleep until a small child crawls in to bed with me. "Good morning, Mom. I'm happy today," he says. I barely open my eyes as I muster the strength to scoot over and help him under the covers. I'm still comfortable and I'm still tired. A few seconds go by and my three year old son moves, gets comfortable, moves again, his hand falls against my face, his knee is digging into my rib and his foot is on top of my leg. I am fully awake now and realize my son has crawled in bed with my husband and I. I sigh, throw the covers back and carrying my fifty pound son back to his room. I cover him up, kiss him good night and then hurry to crawl back into my pocket of warmth.
I have come to the realization that I simply am not meant to sleep. None of my children require the sleep my friends speak of. I have friends who lay their kids down at seven at night and they sleep until seven in the morning never stirring once in the night. My children on the other hand go to bed at nine are awake at two and again at six for the day. My older two children didn't sleep consistently through the night or sleep later than six until they reached kindergarten and so now instead of wishing time away for my youngest to reach kindergarten age I am trying, the operative word being trying, to cherish the time that a small child wants to crawl in to bed with me in the early morning hours to snuggle. In a few short years I will no longer have a small cuddly child in my home because he will grow into a strapping young kindergartner who will hopefully being sleeping through the night and sleeping in a bit longer than six.
Sleep deprivation seems to be a common side effect of motherhood and one I wish I could get used to. I am one of those people that require my eight hours of recharging a night to function, my husband on the other hand could survive on five hours a night. So I guess now you know where my children get it. They have inherited their father's requirement for little sleep.
As I write this my eleven year old daughter is having her slumber party and they like totally need the laptop to look something up online so I must call it a night. It's 9:30 p.m. and my three year old just feel asleep. My nine year old is talking my ear off about how royalty works...if the king dies who inherits the crown? Strange what this kids come up with. I think I'm going to go lie on my comfy couch and rest. I know that maybe tomorrow I can take a nap.
People who say they sleep like a baby usually don't have one. ~Leo J. Burke