Who Needs Sleep?
The baby woke to nurse three times last night.
I let him cry the first time, thinking he'd fall back asleep. Thirty minutes later, I gave in. At 5 a.m., he woke for good. I drove to work guzzling coffee, trying to keep my eyes open.
I did morning pages and a five-minute meditation at my desk. Then I had my first meeting of the day. Then another, and another. I flitted in and out of my memoir, never quite landing, but making enough progress to feel somewhat satisfied. Tomorrow I'll try again.
I arrived home to delicious silence. The baby was sleeping in the car seat and the toddler had shut himself in the bedroom with the iPad. We had a simple dinner and then played together all evening, singing nonsense songs and doing piggy back rides.
Before bed, the toddler crawled under the covers and gazed up at the ceiling. "I'm thinkin' of staying up all night," he announced.
"You need your rest," his daddy replied.
"I didn't say I was going to stay up, I said I was thinkin' about it!"
He presented himself for a goodnight kiss and then headed out the door, pausing halfway to hold up his palm: "Stop it, Mommy. Just stop it."
We are in a "stop it" phase.
Big client meeting tomorrow. I'm exhausted; the light from my laptop screen shoots daggers into my eyes. But I like writing these blog posts each night. I like how they bookend the day's other rituals: Morning pages. Meditation. Memoir. Blog.
The baby coughs and stirs in the other room.
I'm thinkin' of staying up all night.