Last night I went to bed at 9 o’clock. Well, 9:08 to be exact. And I’m happy to say that is the last thing I remember before having absolutely no trouble drifting off to sleep. Whew. I know what you’re thinking: Wow, those Pardys lead wild and crazy lives! Yes, indeed.
But, the night before last was nothing short of a sleep-lover’s nightmare. We had put the girls down around 7 and Matilda was up at 9. I could tell she was scared, having had a bad dream, so I went in to comfort her and put her back down. I took my time, I was patient, we read a story, got some water and a hug from Daddy, and I tucked her back in bed with a prayer and a kiss. You’d think that would do it. But, as the wailing and screaming began, I knew immediately it was going to be one of those nights. The kind where you better just get the redbull out now and resign yourself to the fact that your head and your pillow may not meet for quite some time.
Sure enough, as Matilda hammered on her door like a rhinoceros in a cage, Daphne awoke from our bedroom (her crib is still next to our bed) and the crying and gnashing of teeth (or, gums in Daphne’s case) escalated to decibels I’m guessing only our neighborhood dogs could decipher. Josh and I looked at each other back and forth, sharing expressions of disbelief, anger, frustration, laughter, and sheer exhaustion. This went on for the next 3 hours.
Finally, Josh got out the aerobed and set it up in the living room. He and Matilda hunkered down for the night out there, as she ever-so-slowly sipped on her now-laced-with-Benadryl milk (judge me if you will, but the kid needed to sleep and this has been recommended by our pediatrician…so, while I don’t take it lightly, you gotta do what you gotta do!) and Daphne and I settled into bed. This went on for about 2 hours.
Good. Grief. So, yesterday was spent in an utter daze of diaper changes and coffee refills. Somehow we made it to bedtime, and by 9:08pm I was unashamedly crashing into bed like I had just finished the Boston Marathon.
Thank you, God, for sleep. For restorative respite that somehow recharges our brains and our bodies to be able to function again. Obviously I am no stranger to walking through the day as a mama-zombie. You’ve heard tale after tale of how Matilda magically requires little rest to function at cheetah-pace speed. But, when I got up this morning and realized that going to bed early was as wise a decision I’ve made (right up there with marrying Josh, finishing my degree, and getting a Costco membership…) I was so thankful that God made our bodies require rest. Non-optional, absolutely required, totally mandatory REST.