It all kicks off at the crack of dawn. The baby wails, my feet hit the floor, and my very first thought is, “Oh great, another night of barely any sleep.” I squint at the clock and see I managed a grand total of five hours of shut-eye last night. Awesome. But hey, I can’t really complain—it’s kind of my own doing. I’ve collected a few gray hairs; I know better than to stay up past midnight scrolling through social media and binge-watching my favorite series. And yet, here I am.
I let out a yawn that could rival a lion’s, instantly regretting that last episode of my go-to show. Time to hop on the Struggle Bus, where sweet dreams of sleep play in my mind like a never-ending elevator tune for the next eight hours.
Coffee is a must, so I brew a pot, pack the kids’ lunches, and brace myself for the day’s onslaught. I’m not sure if I’m riding the train or standing in front of it, but I’m counting on caffeine to get me through.
The kids are in full swing: tugging at my clothes, dropping bacon all over the floor, and squabbling over whether to watch “Moana” or “Sing.” I want to tear my hair out, but instead, I put on a smile and pull up my Big Girl Britches a little higher.
I can’t take my exhaustion out on them; it’s not their fault that I stayed up late with my fictional crush. In that moment, I make a promise to myself (again) that tonight will be the night I actually hit the hay early. I’ll shut down my phone, close my eyes, and finally catch up on four years of sleep deprivation. I need my rest. My kids need me to be well-rested.
You’d think that after longing for bedtime all day, when the chance finally arrives, I’d seize it. You’d assume that when the house is finally quiet, I’d drag my weary self to that inviting bed, switch off my phone, and drift off to sleep. You’d think, right? Well, not so fast.
What is wrong with me? Who lives this way? What kind of person daydreams about sleep like it’s a long-lost love, only to turn it down harder than a call from the mother-in-law before my morning coffee?
Hands raised everywhere
All the mamas know.
We understand that when the kids are tucked in and the lights dim, that’s when we often get a magical second wind. It’s then that our brains kick into high gear, and the midnight oil starts burning. Sure, we joke about being tired, but most of us admit that even when sleep is within reach, we often choose to pass it up.
Because nighttime is our time! The house is serene, and we’re free to think grown-up thoughts without interruptions for apple juice or tiny shoe assistance. We crave sleep, yet we also crave that precious alone time. Unfortunately, there just aren’t enough hours in the day for both.
It might be hard to grasp, but inside every mama’s mind, two voices compete: one pleading for a cozy blanket and a nap, while the other rolls its eyes like Regina George, saying, “Sleep is not happening. Stop trying to make it happen!”
We’re all running on empty. But that emptiness is not just physical; it’s mental and emotional too. And sleep only fixes one aspect, right? We need to recharge emotionally, so we stay up late, claiming those quiet moments for ourselves, which usually means we’ll be awake long after the kids are asleep—however long that takes.
Yes, I’ve been thinking about sleep literally all day. But as bedtime rolls around, I’ll likely stay awake yet again. Why? Because I’m a mom, and I’m entitled to be perpetually sleep-deprived while still embracing this beautiful, chaotic life. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.
Moms everywhere raise their lattes and say “Amen.”
For more insight on this topic, check out this resource on maintaining your well-being. And if you’re interested in home insemination, visit this authority for guidance. Additionally, explore this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination support.
In summary, we moms eagerly anticipate sleep only to find ourselves wide awake when the opportunity arises. The chaos of motherhood leaves us exhausted yet craving those moments of peace and solitude, often leading us to forgo sleep for personal time. We embrace the madness and cherish our roles—sleep deprivation and all.