They're not all like this.
Take yesterday for example:
2am. The dog wakes up. Whimper, whine, whimper. Potty break at this hour? Really? Sigh. I open the door to her crate and she disappears in the dark. Where is she? By the light of my phone I find her sitting by the side of my bed. Come, Jess. Come ON. I scoot her out the door, where she sits for several minutes before I let her in. Back in the crate, whimper, whimper, whine. Surely she'll go back to sleep....
4 am. Baby crying. Ugh, here we go. The sheer force of habit pulls me out of my delicious bed and I shuffle in the dark across the living room. I could do this walk with my eyes closed. In fact, I think they are closed. We'll nurse, pop in binky, back to sleep. I know I need to start enforcing better sleeping patterns again. He used to be such a good sleeper! We'll start that tomorrow... Nurse, rock, binky, set down, shut door, and... screaming. Awesome. Doesn't he know we have to be up for the day in 2.5 hours? Doesn't he know it's a big day for us? Surely he'll go back to sleep...
5am. Baby cries again.Or is he still crying? And dog whining. Did I really sleep through the baby crying for a whole hour? I'm a terrible mother. A very, very tired, terrible mother. After a few more minutes lying in bed, the Cry-It-Out and Attachment Parenting moms hashing it out in my half coherent mind, I shuffle over to Baby's room, cursing the unwelcome dawn. After 20 minutes of wrestling in bed with Baby, dog whimpering, husband moaning, me painfully parting with every last shred of hope for sleep, I'm dressed and out of bed, baby in stroller, bitterly dragging the dog out for an early morning walk. It's 5:40am and This. Day. BLOWS.
The rest of the morning is a blur of the following:
"Good morning, girls." Kisses, hugs.
Tired moans, turned into cries and screams.
"Get dressed, please, we need to go in a few minutes."
Cries, screams.
"But Mom, I'm tired."
"Mom, I need my... "
"Hun, have you seen my...."
"I'm hungry!"
"Mom, can you wipe me?"
"I'm tiiiiiiiired!"
Tell me about it.
And me:
Why am I the one...?
"Clothes, please..."
Why is this house such a mess...?
"Come oooon!"
Oh, yay, a puddle on the floor. Jessss!
Let's GOOO!
On the way to the office to drop off David, over whining and banter of small children, I wonder for a moment what has become of my life, my hopes of dreams of old, and ME in general.
* * *
Now back to this morning.
2am. The dog wakes. Whine, whimper, whine. David gets up. Rather than going outside, Jess stubbornly sits by our bed, and a couple of thoughts occurs to me in my sleepy state: 1.Thank-you, good husband. 2.Why is she awake? and 3. Hmmm, maybe she just wants to snuggle... Dog is shuffled outside. Repeat, repeat, repeat.
5am. Bo wakes up. Well, at least it's not 4:00. Nurse, binky, set down, shut door, hold breath. Slumbery silence. Ahhhh....
7:00. Dog wakes up, and so do I. I feel refreshed. I get dressed, and take the dog out for a lovely walk on a Texas summer morning. The grass shimmers in the golden glow of sunrise. The world is as quiet and still as the silvery heron perched by the stream, and I breathe it all in.
I walk home, through our quaint, quiet neighborhood, across our freshly cut grass. I enter the house to the sound of soft cheerful jabbering from the baby's room. How I love it when he wakes up happy! My heart nearly bursts at the sight of him beaming at me from the crib, and he wraps his tiny arms around my neck and burrows his face into my chest. We spend the next what I wish were forever snuggling, cooing, and giggling in my bed with Dad and puppy. One by one the girls drag their blankets and stuffed animals into our room where they join in the snuggles and kisses and laughs, and I think to myself, 'How much more perfect could life be? and, 'How in the world did I get this lucky?'.
* * *
So what changed from one morning to the next? Well, I got a little bit more sleep and that sure goes a long way. Things weren't so rushed, and my attitude was a bit brighter. But when it comes down to it, some days are just awesome. The universe comes together, the stars align and everything is smooth sailing and perfect. And other days just... suck.
But maybe, just maybe, it's because of those terrible, awful days that the good ones seem so very sweet. Maybe it's on those days that we are stretched to our limits, broken down, beat up, chewed up and spit out, that God is able to take us in his hands, smooth an edge here, fill a crack there, and build us right back up again and then some. And the next day - or week, month, year - we wake up a little sore, but stronger, wiser, more patient, more humble. More aware of how beautiful and precious those peaceful moments of love, laughter and connection really are. And more able to create more of those moments for ourselves and the ones we love.
As for what has become of my life, my hopes and dreams, and Me in general, I realize: I chose this life. The kids, the dog, the sleepless nights, the morning snuggles. These are my hopes and dreams. The good, the bad, the dog pee. And this is just God's round-about way of turning ME into something greater than I hoped.
It has been a week since I started writing this post to the the time that I am posting it. In case you're interested to know, we have since concluded that our puppy Jess can in fact sleep through the night. As we came to suspect, she did not need to go outside to relieve herself throughout the night; in fact, all she wanted was to be snuggled up with us in bed. Now when she starts whimpering in the morning, we pull her in the bed. She burrows her velvety head into our side and sleeps hard until we drag her out of bed for a walk. We're all getting a little more sleep these days.
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