Not So Sweet Surrenders

Yikes! I realize that it’s slightly past midnight and I’m just now starting to write. As a self-proclaimed night owl I have migrated my book, teddy bear, and favorite pillow. I know the dear, sweet sleeping husband would scoff at the sound of me creeping in after this particularly long battle between my eye lids shutting and my sheer will of staying up until I can hear the morning birds sing.

I admit it, I fight sleep like a newborn baby.

It started when I was young and I shared a room with my sis. I would sneak across to her bed, lift her eye lids, and hope she would wake up. This is, of course, rather annoying to someone who so very much covets her sleep. I'm so sorry Nanu! I hope you don't have sleep apnea becuase of me!!!

It’s really awful, but I cannot give into another day. In general I think sleeping gets in the way of life, unfortunatly I always decide this after everyone else has gone to bed. I think it’s the quiet that I’ve become addicted to. Maybe it’s the fact that I can be utterly and undeniably selfish. Maybe because Will is growing up way too fast and Avery's right behind him and I think if I don't sleep they will stay my babies for a little while longer. But quite possibly it could be nothing more than my after dinner treats or the cappuccino night cap. Tonight, I know it’s the leche quemada that Dave brought home from a business trip to Mexico – a delicious mix of condensed milk and more sugar! Yum!

Really, I’d like to be a morning person. In high school I would set three alarms – one on the nightstand, one under the bed, one on top of the bay windowsill a good 8 feet high. No luck, I would run circles with my eyes closed, duck and leap without feeling the cold air, and quickly recover my sweet slumber and pillow of drool in seconds. Only to stay up late chatting on the phone about obscure early morning things that don’t make sense in normal day time conversations.

In college I did become a morning person – I’d greet the early morning crowd at Magnolia’s with my last night’s party girl outfit and a slightly haggard look. Still no slumber for me! Wonderful days… Don’t get me wrong, some nights I stayed up late studying. Really. Just hit up some espresso beans and went straight to class.

When Will was just a few weeks old he developed a bit of a crying jag, only it started at about 9pm and lasted until 4am. We had many late night car rides around the lake, sling walks around the house, bouncing, patting, me crying along side. In retrospect, I really miss this: it really was such sweet times – just a little louder than most. It was just me and Will, united in fighting sleep along the way, trying to find the best way to relent against the snoozing temptation. He would finally fall to sleep with the sweetest most peaceful look I would gaze at him adorningly just a little longer, so happy he could be comforted.

So here I am, 1am, not giving in. But then I think about tomorrow, about being a genuine bear when everyone wakes up, about the fact that I can’t vacuum and pick up in the middle of the night, and although I am a fan of late night grocery shopping, I can’t exactly accomplish the things I need to until the sun is up. Therefore, I give in, I throw in the towel, I bury my head in the covers and let my eye lids shut peacefully as I dream of what comes tomorrow.