(Note: I would love to tell a beautiful tale of my husband’s triumphant return home as being magical and awe-inspiring, but illness has seemingly gripped our small kids again, and it’s been nothing but boogers and coughing for Round 2 of Douglas Family’s Winter of Illnesses 2011. Blerg.)
Stop the presses, folks. Yesterday, I took an actual nap.
I know!! Don’t throw tomatoes at me, or anything. No flinging your kid’s poopie diapers my way, either. Trust me, if there was any other way, I would’ve remained a zombie-esque with my coffee-cup in hand until an early bedtime. But the deed had to be done.
I’m not particularly the nap type, either. I may kid about wanting one, yearning for extra sleep and snuggles and my pillow and the ever-popular “rest” thing all of us mother’s crave, but the truth of the matter is I often wake up after a nap drowsy, hungover-like, and feeling particularly worse than I did before I slept.
Today, though, amidst the flu and ear infections impacting my two littles so miserably at present, I was quite literally the walking dead. This sleep-deprived version of myself could hardly keep her eyes open let alone function enough to care for the kids. And so, just as soon as I got both kids down, miraculously at the same time, with the kids zonked, hopped up on ibuprofen and snot, I tucked into the couch and under my fuzzy blanket, and snoozed for almost an hour.
But then, I didn’t want to get up. Isn’t that always the way? It’s why I often muscle through the idea of napping – it’s the waking up part that sucks the worst. But, I had no choice, my Baby Dude was becoming feverish, again. The ibuprofen needed administering, the fluids needed procuring and ingesting, and mommy at least got a small semblance of rest, even if only for an hour.
Thank God for coffee. (Can I get an Amen?)
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