I can do that

When two out of three kids crawled into my bed shortly before 4 am this morning, after all these years of having kids, I still believed I'd go back to bed for a while. The smallest kicked and wrestled with my covers and stroked my arm with his tiny hand. The older child relenting her space to the youngest and shuffling her feet through the hall back to her own bed. I prayed the "DearGodpleaseletthemgobacktosleep" prayer that rarely, if ever, has been answered, and I waited.

You didn't sleep. So I carried you back to your bed. Where are your PJ's? Why are you naked? I carried you back to your bed and put your clothes back on and tucked you in and I gave you a small drink, no peeing the bed please, and I waited.

I don't hear you now. It's 4:57 a.m. Are you sleeping?

I used to pray that you would sleep, babies, because my eyes burned tired and my chest was tight with fear that 3 hours might be all that I get and it surely wasn't three in a row. How would we make it through the day, I wondered, as I prayed my DearGodletthemgobacktosleep prayer again. But that was before I knew how time worked. That was before I knew how time was such a tricky thing.

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