I was just updating (yes, I do that every six months or so) the boys' blogs, each with a little story about sleep that I didn't want to forget.
Ah, sleep. I've never been good at it. As a mom I just accept it's part of my job to go without it. Even when the kids aren't actually waking me up, I spend those nights staying up thinking about them.
Lately, between a million bathroom breaks a night, checking on the kids, and having absolute freak out style anxiety about sleeping through a real contraction and not making it to the hospital in time, I sleep mostly between four and seven. This means Jason is on his own for breakfast and leaves for work while I'm finally resting. This also means there are a lot of mornings when the kids sleep late that I do too. I am aware I should be up and could be getting a lot done in those precious minutes, but nothing seems more important than sleep. I also love the mornings because after laying down for that length of time I have very little pain anywhere and it's a nice break.
Here's the great parts of not sleeping (here's me trying to put a positive spin on something I desperately wish I didn't go without):
I get to enjoy being close to my husband for hours more than most wives.
I get to enjoy seeing my kids sleeping, which is one of the most beautiful things to witness.
I get to spend cute and somewhat strange time with the kids when they wake up in the night.
I get to enjoy peace and quiet in my house. Those things are absent during the day.
I get to read. I get to ponder.
I get crazy. Okay, not a positive but entertaining. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and have no idea what reality is because my groggy brain invented some really bizarre stuff during the night.
I'm not really going anywhere with this post, so I think I will go to sleep (this means turn off all devices, cuddle up to J, and feel Tango squirm around for a while until he too falls asleep, then I just think for a while). I don't have many nights like this left and soon I'll be lamenting the fact that I ever stayed up on purpose.
Ah, sleep. I've never been good at it. As a mom I just accept it's part of my job to go without it. Even when the kids aren't actually waking me up, I spend those nights staying up thinking about them.
Lately, between a million bathroom breaks a night, checking on the kids, and having absolute freak out style anxiety about sleeping through a real contraction and not making it to the hospital in time, I sleep mostly between four and seven. This means Jason is on his own for breakfast and leaves for work while I'm finally resting. This also means there are a lot of mornings when the kids sleep late that I do too. I am aware I should be up and could be getting a lot done in those precious minutes, but nothing seems more important than sleep. I also love the mornings because after laying down for that length of time I have very little pain anywhere and it's a nice break.
Here's the great parts of not sleeping (here's me trying to put a positive spin on something I desperately wish I didn't go without):
I get to enjoy being close to my husband for hours more than most wives.
I get to enjoy seeing my kids sleeping, which is one of the most beautiful things to witness.
I get to spend cute and somewhat strange time with the kids when they wake up in the night.
I get to enjoy peace and quiet in my house. Those things are absent during the day.
I get to read. I get to ponder.
I get crazy. Okay, not a positive but entertaining. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and have no idea what reality is because my groggy brain invented some really bizarre stuff during the night.
I'm not really going anywhere with this post, so I think I will go to sleep (this means turn off all devices, cuddle up to J, and feel Tango squirm around for a while until he too falls asleep, then I just think for a while). I don't have many nights like this left and soon I'll be lamenting the fact that I ever stayed up on purpose.
