Tuesday, March 22, 2011
This morning at the Children's museum Ella brought me a book about seasons. When we got to winter, it read "Winter is for sleeping." There was a drawing of many little animals in burrows under the snow. I sighed happily inwardly.
Ah, Sleep. If you know me, you may know I have been overly blessed in the sleep department. My children tend to sleep through the night from an early age. When I sleep I sleep heavy and deep. I have been known to (frequently) invite friends over on a friday night for Cafe Rio and Rock Band, and then sneak upstairs amid the hub bub at 9:30 and get in bed. Rude? Maybe. It was easier to get away with when hugely pregnant or when I breifly had three children age 2 and under, one on oxygen and tube feeds. I just really, really, need my sleep. Life looks so much brighter on a full night of it. A solid eight hours is like air for me. Like a diet coke and an ibuprofin. As in, vital for energy. I will choose sleep over nearly any other activity. In fact I remember my dad waking me up at four AM to catch a plane to Hawaii as a teenager. And I remember thinking "Eh, is it really worth it?"
But if winter is for sleeping, spring must be for waking up.
"We should honor the Savior's declaration to "Be of Good Cheer". Indeed, it seems to me we may be more guilty of breaking that commadement than almost any other!"
-Elder Jeffrey R Holland
The last few months...or really, the last year--seems to me like a brief and blurry dream. Things that happened 12 months ago seem so far distant but my pregnancy, Ava's infanthood, Lily's life, seem so fleeting and quick that it's hard to recall much about any of them. This is one of the reasons I feel as though I'm greiving Lily so differently and so deeply--it's almost like she wasn't here. I don't know why I remember so little. Probably because I was in survival mode, probably because I was focusing on just getting through the day, probably because I've been pregnant three times and my brain is permanently fried.
But I'm ready to wake up. I'm ready to be happy, and to let go of my troubled heart. I know I've been blessed. It always seems to me that each of my girls is their own kind of miracle. And my sweet husband is a rare and precious gem who endures so much. (He loves when I mention him in my blog.) I read the above quote the other night and it woke me out of my blurry dazed survivial sleep mode. Life is good.
Compared to most of the world I've endured so, so little, and maybe it's time I recognized it. Two girls at home and two girls Safe at Home. A strong hardworking loving husband. A great part time job and big ole mini van. Faith that it's all for my good. And nearly 365 solid nights of sleep a year.