The Quiet

This morning before the sun was up, before my husband was even gone for work, I was awake in bed. In my bed, snuggled under the covers, debating whether falling back asleep was a good or bad idea. Usually I don't debate I just do, because getting more sleep is never a bad thing except that when it's time to wake up again I have that whole oh-my-goodness-it-is-so-hard-to-get-up painful feeling all over again.

While I was debating, my children made my decision for me, one by her tiptoes in the hall and the other by her groggy I wanna go in Mommy's bed! calls from her crib. And we spent a good part of the darkness just laying together and giggling and singing. When each girl put a head on my shoulder, squeezed me tight, and said, Mommy, I love you my MommaHeart grew ten sizes bigger.

But even tucked between whispers and stories and morning smiles, my mind was already planning for tonight because oh how I'm not a morning person and oh how I love my bed. And getting up before the sun is never enough sleep for this tired mama.

And yet, with every intention of going to bed at nine thirty, with a husband who actually did go to bed at nine thirty, here I sit awake. I'm not sure why, even with my resolutions for more sleep, with my tired eyes and mind, why I can't stop what I'm doing and make my bed a priority in the evening. It's like I can't give up hearing the quiet.

After the girls are asleep and the television is off, the quiet feels so good and so needed it's like I can't break away. The day is filled with much noise, and how wonderful that noise is because it means kids and happiness and vibrance and life. But sometimes my mind just craves the renewal that only can come from some quiet.

And then I realize that sleep is sometimes better than a quiet renewal because sleep means renewal and more patience. This body of mine, so wired for sleep, unable to function at it's best with the minimal recommendations, can get the quiet it so seeks in the comfort of bed.

But man, some nights it's just hard to get there.

(And if I go to bed now it's only an hour after my goal. That's not too bad.)

xoxo.
Christine

just write.