Sleep. Precious Sleep.

Why is it that the later you put your kids to bed, the earlier they get up?

Or, on school days, they sleep in and on days there is no school, they are up at the break of day?

It happened this morning.  Last night, I remember excitedly thinking, "well, we're about 45 minutes behind on bed-time, so maybe that means they'll sleep 45 minutes later in the morning!"

Not so much.

6:45 a.m.  I heard sweet voice. 

"Mommy.  Come down here..." (the kids sleep downstairs, master bed is up.  i clearly didn't design this old 1930s remodeled house).

I waited a couple minutes, thinking she might slowly crawl up the steps, scamper across the wood floor, and climb in bed with me to cuddle for a few minutes.  Afterall, it was still half-way dark, rainy and foggy outside.  A perfect day to sleep in. 

Yeah, right.

"MommmmyyyYYY."  (louder this time, with whine attached).  "I'm ready eat breffast.." (some prepositions still missing from 2-year-old vocabulary, as are certain connected consonants-- like "k" next to "f," which, for her, turns into "ff")...

Arrrggggghhh... Ok.  You're the adult here, Dawn.  GET UP!

Then, about the time I sat up, rubbed eyes, and collected myself, she quietly creeped in..

And when she saw me, she ran straight into my arms, yelling, "mommy!"  Big hug!  Big kiss!  And then, in a near-whisper, she said,  "I want cuddle.." (note missing preposition)...

That's when I melted, and I realized I wouldn't have cared if she woke me up at 3 a.m.! 

But I did care when she woke me up at 3 a.m. when she was a newborn.  Fussy, hungry, sick, sad, wanting to be held-- whatever her instant need or want, I was right there.  Happily, yet oh-so-disappointed that it was another night without sleep.  It, of course, didn't last forever.  But geez, did sleep ever become a most precious commodity!

I got selfish with sleep when my first-born was 6 months and my baby was 5 months.  I never slept well at the end of my pregnancies.  And the first months were hellish.  My oldest was just a terrible sleeper to begin with, needing constant holding and shushing.  Baby girl was better, but I got selfish, because I think I was starting to lose it.   4-6 hours of sleep?  Not enough for this mama.  I let 'em cry it out, much to the chagrin of the moms out there who think that's cruel and unusual punishment.

Really?  Wasn't it more cruel and punishing to my children to be an irritable, sleep-deprived borderline-depressed mama who desperately needed rest?  Losing your temper for no good reason is... well, it's unacceptable.  I've been there.  Not proud.  But if I've learned anything at all, it's this:  a happy, well-rested mama-with-no-drama equals happy, well-adjusted cuties who wanna please, love, and play.

Back to this morning.  Precious girl and I were cuddling, on the verge of falling back asleep, when we were snowballed by sweet boy and rescue dog who licked our faces awake.   Two angels and a dog rolling all over me.  Did I really have anything to complain about? 

No, I didn't.

In fact, I'll take tired any day, when such treasured blessings greet my soul each morning of this life.