3:00 AM – a fragile world on the tipping point between sleep and consciousness:
** Dreaming soundly, curled under the comforter like a lazy comma, dog tucked behind my legs. Enjoying deep sleep until I eventually become aware of a steady tap-tap-tap on my forehead. Opening my eyes to find a small face staring intently into mine, eyes aglow in the dark. It takes a few seconds to startle myself awake and fully realize there’s a little human standing there who needs something. Then comes the challenge: problem solving while half asleep.
** Sleeping peacefully, laying on my back with the comforter tucked up to my chin, dog pressed up against my calf. All is quiet and calm when suddenly I am thrown into awareness by two large furry paws thumping down onto the bed next to me, clipping my arm in the process. My eyes pop open and I fuss “NO, Gracie!!” before remembering that she only wakes me if she’s about to vomit. Throwing back the covers and lurching from bed, stumbling over Gracie in my rush to the door as I try to duck Phoebe’s vault over the footboard to join us. It’s the 3:00 AM sprint to the back door, me stumbling in my sleep, dogs slipping on the hardwood, all of us trying to beat the clock on Gracie’s gastric distress.
** Finally sleeping quietly after anxious tossing and turning, dog stretched out between BrightSide and me. Dreaming about who knows what, content on some level to be getting some rest, hoping to snooze until morning. Wakened abruptly by a sharp jab to the back or ribs, wondering what on earth could have possessed BrightSide before finally realizing it was only Phoebe, striking out in her dream pursuit of a deer. She packs a powerful punch for such slender legs.
** Tossing and turning, side to side, snatching sleep when possible and wondering how eyes that are so tired can refuse to stay closed. Fighting for real sleep only to achieve quick naps between long stretches of wakefulness. Finally resigning myself to the long, cold, quiet hours before the sun and breakfast arrive.
** Out like a light, sleeping hard with no chance of waking, until that small hand starts shaking my shoulder and a voice whispers “Mom!” insistently. There is no choice here; sitting up and conversation is required. Something big has gone down in the night and there will be no rest until it’s handled.
** Awake too late, move the dog to get into bed, finally drop off around midnight. Dreaming my way through the night until I realize that yes, I’m actually going to have to get out of bed to pee. Dropping my feet to the floor only to realize I’ve stepped on something soft. Enter panic mode: WTF is that?! Oh, wait, it’s the dog. OMG, it’s the DOG, is she okay?? [Feel around frantically to measure canine breathing in my semi-conscious state then sigh with relief.] She’s okay…but WTH are you doing laying on my side of the bed?! You’re ALWAYS on BrightSide’s. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!
Riddle from the Middle 