Wednesday, July 29, 2015

How I Managed to Go to Bed at 9pm

We're night owls around here. We go to bed pretty late, usually somewhere between 11pm and midnight. I don't know why. We just do. We like late night talk shows (whattup, Jimmy Fallon!) and we like to get every last ounce out of the day God has given us. I procrastinate, so sometimes my most productive hour is about 10:30-11:30pm. I'm not saying it's healthy, it's just how we operate around here.

Yesterday was a pretty busy day. Nothing earth shattering or mega-important, but I was just relatively productive and got a lot done. Ellie had her last "Terrific Tuesday" day camp yesterday and we got home close to 3pm. It was already a little too late for her to take a nap, so I decided we would just power through. If Ellie doesn't take a nap, one of three things happens:

Option 1: She sits on the couch, quietly, watching a movie, trying to will herself not to nod off and fall asleep.

Option 2: She is a terror, throwing tantrums and sobbing about how I won't let her dig through the trash.

Option 3: She spins herself into a new dimension I love to call "cracked out" where she is full of hyperactivity, jumping, climbing, and ten thousand questions. She will literally follow you from room to room and needs a play by play of what you are doing and why.

Yesterday, while I was being productive around the house, Ellie chose Option 3.


Look, I'd pick it over Option 2 any day, but it is just rather exhausting. While I was folding a pile of laundry yesterday, Ellie was literally, (and I do mean literally) running in circles around me and declaring whose item of clothing I was folding.

"That's mine!"

"That's yours!"

"That's Daddy's!"

"That's my Elsa pj's!"

Not only is she doing this, but it is a requirement that I respond to each declaration. Mostly this is accomplished by me dryly responding with "yep." or "uh huh." or "it sure is." or "that's right." This seems to satisfy her.

I got laundry done and folded and put away (that right there is a Christmas miracle) and I finished writing the thank you notes from her birthday party. I went through a big pile of paperwork and got it filed away and I unloaded the dishwasher. I got her dinner made and bathed her and started on our dinner. (Yes, I'm one of those mothers who cooks one meal for her kids and one meal for the adults.) (It works for us.)

Grant took over the cooking while I got Ellie bathed and in bed. He's great like that. I came downstairs, the two of us sat down at the kitchen table and talked and ate and it was very lovely. He said, "you seem stressed."

"I'm not. I'm just tired. And my feet hurt really bad today. And so does my back. I just feel heavy. I feel like this little boy sits lower than she did."

"Well, then, go lay down."

"I will. I just want to finish putting this last load of clothes away and then I will."

We cleaned up dinner and I started putting away the last load. He walked by and said "Hey, YOU. Go. lay. down. and. relax."

"I will! I'm almost done and then I'm going to lay down and not get up for a year."

"You're just gonna get up when it's time to have this baby?"

"That sounds awesome."

So, after everything was put away, I promptly put on pajamas (it was about 8:15 by this point) and decided I wanted to read a magazine.

I crawled into bed, turned off most of the lights except a lamp, propped up some pillows and started to read. Once my magazine was done, I busted out the iPad and went on a little Pinterest journey. At 8:55, I caught myself nodding off. At 9pm, I decided to not fight it. I turned off the lamp and rolled over.

I did not wake up once in the night.

Not even to use the bathroom once or three times, which has been a nightly ritual during this pregnancy.

I stayed asleep. All. Night.


And you know what happened? At 6:15am this morning, when my alarm went off, I did not hit snooze. Didn't feel like I needed to. I just hopped up and got to work.

You "early to bed" people might be on to something.....

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