the necessity of sleep

the night just sat there,
heat sticking to everything, 
the fan blades moving in slow motion
as our tired bodies laid atop
the wrinkled sheets. 

sleep refused to come
as we tossed and turned,
our legs restless and ready to run a marathon
while the tops of our bodies
cried in exhaustion.

our eyes pinched shut, 
willing a sound sleep to arrive
when youngest baby screams over the monitor,
demanding to be attended to. 
our insides cringe
and we knew the night would follow suit,
kicking and screaming. 

baby howls, 
begging for us to understand 
her agony, her anger
we try to remain resilient and steadfast, 
we can't cater to her every midnight need can we?
and so we lay there, 
almost desperate enough to stuff our heads
beneath our pillows
if it weren't so bloody hot. 

baby continues to scream, 
just about convincing us 
she is the last baby on earth
and we are her only hope,
when middle baby stumbles down the stairs,
her moans keeping her company.
she finds her way to our bed,
mumbling about bad dreams,
and itches she scratched too hard
and now there is blood.

sigh. 
i assist her, 
all my movements a bit delayed,
i don't know how present i am, 
but i fumbled with band aids and 
gentle shushing sounds,
as i cradle her and rock her against my 
clammy body.
she crawls in our bed,
it is clear she is here to stay,
having no problem 
making herself at home. 

dad has gone 
to finally grab last baby on earth,
and soon our bed is swimming 
not just with 4 legs, 
but now 8.

limbs and sticky skin are everywhere 
but at least it is now quiet. 
i can hear dad began to snore,
and little lungs breathing steadily. 

there isn't much room for me
in our humble queen sized bed.  
where did the term 
queen size come anyways?
did they get an actual real live queen 
to sleep in a bed
and she then deemed it worthy 
for all queens everywhere?
i sure didn't feel like a queen.
more like a sleep deprived zombie.

i found a spot 
at the bottom of the bed, 
laying horizontally 
from the rest of the limbs, 
using my husband's knee as a pillow,
and my own legs spilling out 
over the side of the bed.

could this night get any slower?

somehow, morning did come, 
but i didn't know, because i finally made it to slumber.

[i promise, this short has an ending.]

And herein lies the shining star, 
my husband. 
we both got equal amount of 
lack of sleep, 
and him, in his gracious servant hearted core,
woke up shortly 
after the sun had risen, 
and shuffled his way into the kitchen. 
he prepared pancakes with fresh blue berries 
for the kids,
all the syrup 
they could ever wish for. 

i had left the kitchen a bit of a tornado the night before,
and he tackled that after breakfast. 
he kept the children quiet and busy, 
and let me dream away. 
he changed dirty diapers, 
at least twice, 
and loaded and ran the dishwasher.

somewhere around eleven am, 
i awoke to the humming of the dishwasher's song
and the children chattering something about 
fruit fly traps and building forts. 

this morning could have been 
very much a potentially 
bad morning 
full of impatience 
and a short fuse. 
crying most likely was also 
a very probably possibility. by me. 

but no. 
i awoke with a heart of gratitude 
and thankfulness
to the Father for giving me such a gift 
in my husband,
for his faithfulness and 
complete selflessness.

i don't deserve any of this. at all. 

just a reminder to me, that i am weak, 
i am but flesh and dust, 
and He is strong.
 He cares for me. 
He is aware that i didn't get much sleep 
and i was dreading the day before me, 
and he graciously met my little needs 
with joy. 

so thank you Father. 
thank you dear husband. 
now, its your turn
to take a nap...