A Tired Mommy’s Prayer for Sleep

Prayer for Sleep

The dinner dishes are cleared and the dishwasher is humming.  Homework is completed and the children are playing.  I look at the clock that hangs on the wall.  It is 6 pm.  Only two hours until the children go to bed and I can have some peace and quiet.  A small window of time for a hard working, tired mommy to sit in the sofa and fold the basket of laundry while catching a few minutes of SupernaturalDamn, that Jensen Ackles is a hubba hubba!

The clock continues to tick by.  I count down the minutes until I can rest my exhausted head on my squishy soft pillow.  “Dear Lord, let them sleep…please Lord let ME sleep,” I whisper under my breath.

The laundry folded and put away, the last pile of papers has been graded and shoved back into my school bag, and the preview for next week’s episode of Supernatural is over.  Thank God it is finally time for bed.

I slip between my sheets and let out a sigh.  I hope he isn’t in the mood because I am too tired.  I hope I won’t need to use the bathroom tonight.  I haven’t had anything to drink since dinner just to make sure.

After kissing the hubby goodnight, I roll over and close my eyes.  Suddenly I remember that tomorrow we are starting the Science Unit on plants and that I forgot to make the student response journals.  I’ll have to do that as soon as I get there in the morning.  Oh, and I need to sign AJ’s permission slipShoot, I should have done that tonight.  Soon, exhaustion quiets my over active mommy brain and around 10:30 sleep finally comes.

Casey, my five-year-old, comes in the room at 11 o’clock.  He is thirsty.  His throat is dry and he needs water now.  I take him into the kitchen and give him a tiny bit.  He downs it and asks for more.  I give him a second cup and then escort him back to bed, tuck him in and give him another kiss goodnight.

Luckily it is still early.  I have time for tons of sleep…right?

Warm and cozy, not wanting to get up, my bladder wakes me demanding attention.  Ever since the second baby not only do I cross my legs to cough and sneeze, I pee every hour during the day and at least once during the night.  I climb out of bed, run to the bathroom then hurry back.  I know I shouldn’t, but I look at the clock.  It is 1:32.  Okay, if I fall asleep right away I should be able to get three and a half more hours of sleep.

I lay there and lay there and lay there some more.  I am still awake when AJ, my twelve-year-old, gets up to use the bathroom at 2:24.  BAM!  Surprise, he slammed the toilet seat…again.  At least he remembered to flush.  Okay Lord, if you let me fall asleep right now, I will still be able to get two and a half hours.  Please God, I really need some sleep.

Miraculously I nod off, but then wake with a start.  Something is wrong.  Crying?  Oh, Casey is crying.  I hop out of bed and find Casey running back and forth in the living room doing a sleep walk version of the potty dance.  I grab him because I know he is going to pee any second but because he is still asleep he can’t find the bathroom.  I yank his pajama bottoms down to his ankles and position him in front of the toilet.  He all but sighs with relief as he answers the call of nature.  For the second time in one night I take him back to his room.  This time I toss a blanket over him and skip giving him another kiss.  I am just too tired and besides he is already asleep.  I go in my room and notice that it is 3:15 am.

“God, when I said I needed sleep I meant more than 20 minutes worth,” I grumble.  Apparently one should not grumble at God.  He has a way of getting the last laugh.  Five minutes later my husband begins to snore, quietly at first, which I try to ignore, but soon the whole room is rumbling with his inhales and exhales.  Resisting the urge to smother him with a pillow, I elbow him in the side and he rolls over.

God, if you let me fall asleep now I can still get an hour and a half.  Please, just 90 minutes of real sleep.  You know, that stuff they call REM.  Pretty please!

I lay there for a while, hoping to nod off soon, and I think I am just about to, when suddenly Bella, the cat, begins to cry for food and affection.  I try desperately to ignore her.  She knows I am ignoring her, so Bella starts to paw at the door.  “Scrape, scrape, meow.  Scrape, scrape, meow.”

I get out of bed, grab a pillow and throw it out the door at the cat.  It is 4:30 in the freaking morning.  Now when I climb back into bed I am angry.  So angry in fact that sleep is out of the question. I begin to think about all the stuff I have to do today; run off those science papers, get the new grades into the computer, run to the market after work, and cook a super fast dinner because Casey has Cub Scouts.

The alarm clock goes off at 5:00 sharp.  I hit the clock a little harder than necessary and let out a yawn.  I look up at the ceiling and, before I get out of bed to go chug two bottles of 5 Hour Energy and load up on caffeine, I decide to flip God a double middle finger.  I know it is wrong, and I will ask for forgiveness later, but right now I am tired, cranky, and honestly, he had it coming.

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