I’m sure most parents, or rather most people have read or heard “Love You Forever” by Robert Munch, and as a mother I kinda do what the mother in the book does…minus the singing and rocking bit, too afraid to wake the sleeping beasts. But I sometime go into my kids room just to watch them sleep for a while. It’s the perfect opportunity to witness them at there most serene, most innocent. It’s a time where you don’t need to exercise restraint.
It happens in these stolen moments that I usually get overwhelmed with disbelief that I am a mother and that I am doing an okay job of it, I mean I have managed to keep them alive and thriving for this long it is very possible that I can continue to do so whether I am alone or not. I still can’t seem to grasp fully the fact that these two little people are mine, that they are a part of me. It seems so incredibly impossible and amazing all at once.
There is just about nothing better then a soft bed, a comfy pillow, and a fluffy comforter. I love my bed and yet we have a very complicated relationship. No matter how tired I may be as soon as my kids are in bed and silence finally descends on me all I can think about is how much stuff I can get done without them under foot, or the chance to actually watch something other then cartoons (though I must confess, there are some cartoons I get as much enjoyment out of watching as they do). But no matter what it is sleep and my bed are usually the furthest things from my mind. I am a night person and so I usually feel more energetic and awake once the sun goes down (might also be because my children are in bed). Then morning comes around and even on those lucky days when my kids actually sleep in my oh so pleasant internal alarm clock wakes me up at 8 anyway. Oh how I try to deny the fact I am a wake, how I cling to the fading dreams and pray that sleep will return, but in the end it never really works. I lay in bed for as long as I can (usually the increasing need to pee makes staying in bed impossible) and then its back to morning routines.
There are times when I am talking to others and they like to tell me how they slept in until noon, and how tired they are, and I can start to feel my hand twitch with restraint. Don’t they know that you never talk to a parent about sleep? We don’t want to hear about your 12 hours of sleep, or how tired you are since you just worked eight hours. Being a parent is working full time and then going home to work another full time job. Luckily the little monsters are cute and are usually good for a laugh or two, most of the time they don’t even know why they are being funny which just makes it even better. It amazes me sometimes to think about my pre-mother life and how I would feel exhausted if I didn’t get eight hours of sleep, and now I could get four hours and still function (pretty sure I’m just working on auto-pilot on those days).
So enjoy every hour of sleep you get and never take sleeping in for granted. Even though I am sure most parents are like me and if you do miraculously sleep in you just end up thinking about all the things you could have gotten done in that time.