It’s such a distant memory that I can barely recall the sensation…falling into a deep sleep and dozing peacefully, soundly, without a care in the world.
Well, that’s not true, I’ve always had things weighing on my mind. They have a pesky tendency to kick around a little harder at the end of the day, too, but there was a difference twelve years ago. Before kids I was able to shut it down. When I got to sleep, I slept. And it was wonderful.
Then T-man and Bear came along, and my entire concept of a good night’s sleep was turned on its head.
The first few years of a kid’s life is like mommy boot camp – after a lifetime of relatively serene slumber suddenly I found myself on edge every single moment of every single night. A baby’s cry, a toddler’s scream, a small face breathing into mine until my eyes popped open in alarm…eventually the ability to sleep soundly was beaten right out of me.
I considered it a good night’s sleep if I could truly drop off by 80% or so.
I never really regained that ability to rest without worry. To sleep without being perched on the edge of consciousness, listening for a child who needs help in the night.
But over the last year or so, something magical has been happening at the lake.
It doesn’t occur every time we go, but once in a while something just clicks and I find myself falling into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasts until 9:00am. The kind of sleep that carries me through the night, past daybreak, and when I finally open my eyes I actually feel rested.
Rested. A sensation I vaguely remember from my pre-kid days, and one I didn’t know I’d ever get back.
My post as part of Colline’s Gratitude Project.