Yesterday, I was tired. Bone tired. Dog tired. Headache at bedtime (which was before 9pm) tired. So of course, we had the worst night ever. Here’s the recipe, in case you’re wondering…
Preheat the room to a hot, sticky degree – too hot for a sheet, definitely too hot for comfort.
Add a family of mosquitoes who magically disappear as soon as the light is on.
Throw in the Dalai Lama’s quote about mosquitoes, on endless repeat:
If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.
Mix the pesky mosquito family with your sweet sleeping baby, so that she wakes up and cries for milk at midnight (what?! Not for weeks!) and again at 4am, and doesn’t want to settle because she’s itchy.
Throw in one toddler going through an imaginative developmental leap, who wakes up 2 to 3 times calling for you.
Add a low blood sugar that requires you to go through to the kitchen and drink juice in the middle of the night, then brush your teeth and wait to feel normal again.
Ensure the feeling normal takes long enough for your brain to wake up and start thinking about – you guessed it! – work.
But now it’s evening again and we have chased the mosquitoes away and lit citronella candles and I am saying a prayer to the God of small children that mine sleep. Eternal hope is one of the greatest skills all parents learn, I think…