I think I am, more-or-less, back to my pre-work-away-from-home, early morning routine. I'm getting up early, at least. I'm getting in a handful of productive hours before the kids are even out of bed. Feels good. Feels like I'm hitting a rhythm that works.
Sort of.
The problem I've had the past two days is this: It's about 1 o'clock in the afternoon and I find myself... passing out... for lack of a better word. Yesterday I made the unlikely suggestion that the kids watch an hour of television in the middle of the afternoon thinking that I would just close my eyes for a bit and catch my second wind. THREE hours later I clawed my way back to wakefulness. The kids were quietly working on projects, waiting for me to recover.
Today I was determined that I would NOT take a nap because it would help me to get to bed earlier. Early to bed - early to rise, right? Makes the whole process easier, at least.
But when the kids pulled out their library books and we started to read, I found myself slipping quickly.
"Mom!" My daughter was shaking my arm. "Are you sleeping? I don't understand what you're saying."
It's true. I am capable of reading in my sleep. I won't guarantee it's comprehensible, but I have been known to keep talking even as my eyes fall shut over the page.
Three easy readers into it and I felt like my head had been buried in quicksand. I tried to get up off the couch. I tried to tell myself that now would be a good time to jump up and do some yoga or take the dog for a quick, energizing walk. Instead, I tipped sideways and let my eyes close for a moment.
Again, it was past 3 o'clock before I revived. The kids were quietly playing in different corners of the house.
"I thought I asked you to get me up within the hour," I said to my oldest.
"I tried, Mom. You didn't answer."
So maybe I'm not quite there yet. Tomorrow will be another early morning. Tonight is already later than it should be. But it's hard to head for bed early with those three hour power naps under my belt.
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