Amazing Discovery

I did something crazy on Friday. It's something that Bryan's been trying to get me to do for weeks. It's something I've been scoffing at. It's something that was totally awesome.

I went to sleep at 9pm.

I value that quiet, all-to-myself-time that I get at nights, I've never wanted to give it up for something as trivial as sleep. But with our still-sick boys continuing to wake at odd hours, I had been burning the candle at both ends.

At night I usually check my email and Facebook, read your blogs, and prepare my post for the following day. Then, if it's not too late, I'll watch something on Hulu. (The new season of Chuck just started, did you know?) Before I know it it's 11pm. But, I usually rationalize, I've been sitting, which is resting, and that's kind of like sleeping, right?

Riiight.

I finally came to the end of my rope on Friday. Both Bryan and I woke in a state of exhaustion. I was so tired that I knew once I stopped moving, whether it was to sit and watch the boys play or read a book for a moment, I would be asleep. And so, I never stopped moving. I enlisted the boys in my busyness. We vacuumed, we made ham and bean soup from scratch, Peter helped me clean the bathrooms while Cooper slept, I washed my bedding (Cooper had thrown up on my sheets from coughing so hard) and made my bed. By the time the boys went to bed at 7pm our house was glistening and I was barely standing.

As soon as I walked out of the boy's room I walked into mine and pulled on my pajamas, climbed under my freshly laundered covers and grabbed my latest Entertainment Weekly. I didn't turn on the computer. I didn't watch TV. I just read mindless entertainment news and tried to thaw. (Our house is cold.) At 9 o'clock Bryan came in to say good night and I finally let my weary eyes close. (Bryan has been working late a lot. Thankfully he can do it from home, so he's just in the other room, but I still try not to disturb him. Thus, all the solo endeavors.)

A strange thing happened when I woke up on Saturday morning: I felt good. I don't remember the last time that happened. Usually, my first thought upon waking is, "Oh my goodness. I'm soooooooooo tired. How am I going to make it till bedtime?" But on Saturday when Peter came bounding in (at 7am, mercifully tardy of him compared with his wakings of late) I got out of bed to let Bryan sleep (he had worked until almost 3am) and I thought, "Wow, I feel pretty good. Is this what being well-rested is like?"

And the whole day followed suit. I had energy to play with the boys. Peter and I built a snowman while Cooper napped. The boys and I made a batch of delicious cookies. It wasn't until the boys went to sleep that I started to feel tired, and even then I stayed up and folded three loads of laundry. It was a wonderful day.

I was anxious to repeat my experiment for Saturday. Alas, due to laundry folding and a Hulu date with Bryan, my head didn't hit the pillow until 10:30pm. "Oh well," I thought, "that's not a huge time difference."

I was wrong.

Sunday did not go as well.

And so I have redoubled my efforts to be in bed, with the lights out, by 9pm. I hope my Saturday results weren't a fluke. I really like the nice Margot that was here that day. The cranky Margot definitely needed a day-off. Or maybe a permanent vacation.