So guess what I was doing at 4:00 am this Tuesday morning? Nope, I actually made it past 3:30 and was sleeping soundly in my bed when my oldest daughter tiptoed into my room. She came straight to my side of the bed (because apparently at the stroke of midnight I turn all powerful and daddy is just that guy that produces funny noises in his sleep... at least as far as my kids seem to understand it) and whispered, “I had a bad dream, can I sleep with you?”
Now, my daughter does not sleep in a bed at night, what she does is more like a break dancing, while loudly sucking her thumb routine, combined with the occasional hand to your face. I love her, LOVE to snuggle with her! HATE to share a bed with her. But I was powerless with exhaustion and so I mumbled some sort of agreement and and she climbed in.
Twenty minutes later when her slender frame was somehow managing to take over my entire side of the bed, I kindly sent her back to her own room. I drifted back off to sleep (which I have not been able to do for at least two weeks at that hour) and a few minutes later here was Elyse, standing over me once again.
“What?” I groaned!
And then she said pitifully the three most terrifying words a child can utter in the middle of the night, “My tummy hurts.”
Now this is the part of the story where I tell you that I got up with my 8 year old daughter and, despite my exhaustion and the warmth of my bed, in the end I was able to look back over those precious hours we spent together, just the two of us in our quiet darkened house and smile.
Sadly that is some other mother’s precious story.
I am pretty sure my exact response was, “you know where the throw up bowl is.”
In my last post I boasted of my home being a safe place for my children. Apparently that is only between the hours of 6:30 am and 10:00 pm.
She did not come back to my room after that but I also never went back to sleep. And thus my cycle of, not enough sleep, has not yet been broken. I was aggravated when I woke up. I felt slightly guilty when I went into the girls room to get them up and saw the throw up bowl next to Elyse’s bed. But then I felt annoyed again when she told me in a chipper voice on the way to school, “I slept GREAT after I went back to bed mommy. My tummy didn’t hurt anymore and I did not have any bad dreams!”
I rejoiced out loud with her, but mumbled “must be nice” in my heart. In my defense, I am kind of a jerk until about 10:00 in the morning.
I don’t want to become that mom that posts about middle of the night moments with my children that I cherish, because, quite frankly I want to be sleeping.
I DO want to be somebody my kids can run to when their tummies hurt. I want to make them all better. I want to wipe tear stained cheeks and quote verses with my children when they are afraid. I want to always be the one that is available, comforting, willing to listen, slow to voice my opinion. I’d rather do it after 10 am but that is not always the clock my babies run on.
Lord please give me a listening ear, a compassionate heart. Energize me during those wee hours, and refresh me during those seasons when sleep does not come easy. I can’t be everything my children need, but with your strength and wisdom I can be a good example of the One who is Everything, All in All.
Help me to be alert and humble enough to ask for that strength and wisdom. Without it... well, I tend to come across as a selfish brat. My kids need better than that!
|Elyse and I spending a day together, sometime after 10am.|
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