I can't even blame it on the kids this time. It's not that I'm not tired; I'm beyond exhausted. I haven't slept properly consecutively since around 2000, despite my habit of leaping into the bed like a gold-medal gymnast by 8 pm.
When I do sleep, nothing - and I mean NOTHING - can wake me. I have slept through tornado watches; mysterious fire alarm battery chirps (come on, it happen to everyone); and malfunctioning burglar alarms. It's disconcerting actually. Lest you think I'm well rested, bear in mind that this only occurs in spurts...and I'm convinced I need many more hours of sleep than the average person. (Please do remember that there's nothing "average" about my whac-a-mole life!)But nights like this one are different. A few hours ago, I battled to keep my eyes open just to make it through the afternoon, and now they won't close.
Instead, the Doppler Radar inside my brain - unfettered by mundane activities like making lunches and shuttling carpools - blips and twirls. I fret that my sweet baby girl sprawled out in bed next to me is almost my size - practically a third adult in the bed (yes, my bed because at least I know she's safe). I wonder if her nightly visits will ever cease...and whether she'll ever sleep under any roof but my own.
