I'm well-aware of the fact that the thing I crave most these days is sleep. More so than time alone lying on the couch watching TV; more so than a peaceful afternoon reading a book; more so than an uninterupted shower.
After months and months of waking in the middle of the night, sometimes three or four times, I want nothing more than to sleep for hours on end, waking up only when I choose to, not because one kid is crying or the other is yelling 'mommy'.
My lack of sleep these last nine months is partly my own fault. I'm a light sleeper. Most nights, Alex will barely need to squeak before I'm out of bed and walking down the hall to her room. Sometimes it's almost automatic -- and when I get there, I'm not only barely awake, but she's also sound asleep. What I end up with is a full night of sleep foiled because my daughter talks in her sleep.
Ryan, on the other hand, sleeps so deeply that some nights he doesn't hear her at all. So much so, that he'll wake in the morning and say 'she had a good night'. At which point, I grumble something about her waking up three or four times.
Two nights in North Carolina without the kids was a much-needed break from sleepless nights. Unfortunately, the first night I still woke up twice (for no particular reason) and the second night, although it was uninterupted sleep, it was only six hours long. Being away from the kids is a bit of a double-edged sword afterall, because I may want to sleep a lot, but really, who wants to go to bed early when you can go out drinking instead?
Although, I'm not the slightest bit embarrased to admit that on the first morning, I woke up at 10 -- in time for us to wander down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast -- only to go back to bed at 11 and sleep for another hour and a bit before we had to go out for lunch.
And at home, I've started making the most of my sleep-in mornings by popping in a pair of earplugs as soon as Ryan gets up with the kids.
Now, if only I could wear those at night without feeling guilty.