My first day of summer happened to be a Saturday. Saturday is usually my day to "sleep in", when we don't have soccer. Or basketball. Or a birthday party that someone completely forgot to mention until they get a text reminder. This particular Saturday, we had absolutely nothing to be up for. No appointments, no parties, no visitors. I went to sleep on Friday happily, planning to be there for a good twelve hours.
The unfortunate thing about being a mom? You never actually fall asleep completely, no matter how badly you want to. There's always one portion of the Mom brain that is forever honed in on your child, no matter where they are in the house. We got rid of our monitor years ago...but every time my son coughs, snores, or takes a deep breath, I know it. When he sits up, or talks in his sleep, or has a bad dream, or needs water, I know it.
It gets worse.
If my husband's CPAP mask moves off of his face, I know it. If he rolls over, I know it. If the dog growls in her sleep, I know it. If the cats jump up on the bed, I know it. Some idiot driving on our street with their radio blasting? Yep. I'm like a soldier in combat, sleeping with one eye open, just in case. If zombies invade the house, I will be out of that bed at the first moan of "Braaaaains!"
But still, I was hopeful that I could sleep until at least 9am.
My husband has been under some stress lately(read yesterday's post), and stress upsets the sleep cycle. He's been getting up at 4am. And Larry simply cannot rely on the fact that he is in the same house he has been in for the last fifteen years and that we have yet to move the furniture around; he has to turn on a light. Usually it's his phone light, which is bright enough to be seen from space. He tried to be quiet, but he is a big man, so on this day I heard a STOMP! or two as he made his way to the bathroom, then the stairs. He turned on the light to go down the stairs, where he had to turn on more lights before he turned the lights for the stairs off.
Guess how I know all of this?
I rolled over and finally fell asleep again...and awoke to a kick in the kidney from my son, who happened to have crawled into our bed in the middle of the night. It was 6am. Zane decided that he was awake, and he shook me until I woke up to ask where his Daddy might be. I mumbled something about the downstairs, whereupon my considerate child climbed over me to get out of bed. He yelled loudly from the top of the stairs for his father, just to make sure he was downstairs, before he went to join him.
This was the dog's cue that she needed some pampering, and Maisy scooted over to me, licked my ear, and flopped down on my arm, her hot breath hitting me noisily. I pushed her away to roll over yet again, so I could drift off...
And then my cat Pounce began yelling at me, her short meows chastising me for something. She marched right up to the bed, she was so upset. Maisy decided to chase her, because she knows Pounce hates it, and the entire bed shook as the dog took off. Maisy threw in a bark as extra fun. Then Zane and his father came back upstairs to get Zane's tablet from the charger. This involved turning on the lights again, as well as loud whispering.
By this time it is 7am, and I am awake. However, I am unwilling to give up so easily, and I lay there quietly, hoping that my mind will shut off and let me sleep an hour longer. No such luck. I finally called it and got up at 8am.
Coffee was calling, anyway. And laundry. No matter what, there will always be laundry.