I really do not remember the last time I woke up feeling rested and refreshed. I'm not a morning person, now or ever, by any stretch of the word, and yet I know that there have been times in my life when I was ready to get out of bed. Those times are not now. Now I am never ready to get out of bed, no matter how long I've been in it.
Certainly, I rarely get a full night's sleep, even now that my youngest is two and sleeps through the night like a sweet-cheeked little champ. Last night, for example, Isabel, age six, had bad dreams and kept materializing at my bedside because the kids had watched an old episodes of Sherlock Holmes which involved a mummy (I don't recall this from any of the stories). I put her back once, and after that rolled over to let her sleep beside me. Four nights ago Diana was feverish and in bed with us, and I spent all night listening through her broken breathing for the certain gagging that indicates that the child will shortly throw up is not conducive to restful slumbers. Three nights ago, Diana was recovered from nausea but had a stuffy nose, and this outraged her so that she did her mouth breathing by bawling for about two hours straight. But even on a normal night, there's at least one occasion on which I have to get out bed to check on someone, tuck someone back in, investigate the fuss, or change the sheets.
I'm curious: is this weary state an affect of motherhood, or of age? Do single or childless people wake up feeling this way? How does it differ between people in their 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s? Does it ever get better, or does the rest of my life stretch before me in a long procession of hard risings?
Certainly, I rarely get a full night's sleep, even now that my youngest is two and sleeps through the night like a sweet-cheeked little champ. Last night, for example, Isabel, age six, had bad dreams and kept materializing at my bedside because the kids had watched an old episodes of Sherlock Holmes which involved a mummy (I don't recall this from any of the stories). I put her back once, and after that rolled over to let her sleep beside me. Four nights ago Diana was feverish and in bed with us, and I spent all night listening through her broken breathing for the certain gagging that indicates that the child will shortly throw up is not conducive to restful slumbers. Three nights ago, Diana was recovered from nausea but had a stuffy nose, and this outraged her so that she did her mouth breathing by bawling for about two hours straight. But even on a normal night, there's at least one occasion on which I have to get out bed to check on someone, tuck someone back in, investigate the fuss, or change the sheets.
I'm curious: is this weary state an affect of motherhood, or of age? Do single or childless people wake up feeling this way? How does it differ between people in their 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s? Does it ever get better, or does the rest of my life stretch before me in a long procession of hard risings?
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