Pleasantly Surprised

I think I've written before about my insomnia, but if not, a quick recap. Since Annie was born, I've struggled off and on with sleep issues. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and am wide awake for a couple of hours. Sometimes I wander all over the house, trying to read for a while, searching for a different bed or coming back to mine when I feel sleepy again. Sometimes the littlest things wake me up (Jason getting up to pee, one sound from a child, a noise outside) and I never really get back to sleep. And sometimes, I just can't fall asleep at night in the first place. Last night was one of those nights, both for me and for Jason (who normally sleeps like a champ no matter what). Maybe it was that back-to-reality thing I spoke so cheerily about yesterday; maybe, deep down, there was a reluctance to re-enter the real world this morning.

In any case, today was a day much like any other Monday, but with less sleep. Annie was thrilled to be back at school. For show and tell, she brought the chick that had hatched out of the egg she put in water, a favorite stocking stuffer from Santa. Jemma happily watched Sesame Street and downed Cheerios while I went back into Accomplishing Things mode for the morning: making doctor's appointments, catching up on e-mail, unloading groceries and planning this week's meals, sneaking in a phone call or three. This afternoon, we went to the gym, where both girls hung out in the kids' area with no tears from either while I spent some time with the treadmill. And tonight, I managed to conjure up a dinner that every person in my family enjoyed (chicken, rice, and black bean tostadas), which is a small miracle in itself.

After dinner, after baths, I tucked Annie in at 7:00. I shut her door and came out in the living room to find Jason and Jemma on the couch, surrounded by books and covered with a big blanket. Jemma was climbing all around, scrutinizing each page for "A Annie" and "J Jemma" and "M?" (today's Sesame Street letter of the day). As I sat with them, Jason fell asleep. As soon as Jemma noticed, she ceased all her squirming and looked at me. "Daddy?" she said.

"What's he doing?" I asked.

"Nigh-night." She nodded solemnly. Then she scrambled over my legs and over his legs so she could put her arms up around his neck. She laid her head on his chest, closed her eyes, said, "Cuddle." It was the most still she'd been all day, excepting naptime.

Sleep. We're getting it when we can. And in spite of the lack, it was still a pretty great day.