Sleep. The bane of many parents’ existences, whether that be putting the child being fighting going to be, the child awakening in the middle of the night, or, in my case, the child always waking up far too early, ready to attack the day–though rarely rested enough to make it through the entire day without becoming cranky.
One consistency–most parents themselves never land enough sleep, or at least not enough good, solid sleep due to some conglomeration of interruptions.
That’s why earlier this week I experienced such a pleasant anomaly. I slept solidly. Really, truly, deeply solidly. It may only have been 5-1/4 hours, but it was so uninterrupted, so deep, and thus so actually restful that the night was a revelation.
Is this how normal people live? How productive could I be if this happened more regularly? Had I actually forgotten what it is like to feel energetic? The answer is yes.
I can only dream. Well, maybe not, that would mean I was truly sleeping again, and I just used up my once every six years allowance.
Sadly, of course, the rest of the week returned to the normal routine of sleepus interruptus and early wake-upus that has been my life for the past few years. But for that one brief moment I had a taste of what might–and hopefully will be–again.
I just hope that the transition will be sooner rather than later, sometime before the kids’ dreaded high-school years when I expect to be the one waking them up each and every day–at which point the girls will be wishing they had let us sleep all those years past.
Sleep is a many-splendored thing. You should all try it sometime.