Domesticity, Easter & the Ephemera of Sleep

I thought it wouldn't happen until after the baby was born. Somehow I've been, for many mornings now, up at 3 or 4 AM. Awake. I lie there, hungry or uncomfortable but mostly just wide-eyed, staring into the darkness, willing sleep to return to me. I've read all about the physiology of pregnancy, how your body shifts it's sleep cycles to mimic that of a newborn: most of sleep time is now spent in light sleep.

Which I think was nice (in theory) of God to prepare me like that. But when you also have to be awake during the day, looking after other children, I start to wonder about the efficacy of giving all the supervisory powers of the household to the grouchy & sleep-deprived.

Rosa, Reluctant Dawntreader

This morning it was 5 when I awoke. I somehow decided that this was a relatively normal hour to be up. The neighbor's lights in the windows and chirruping of birds helped with this illusion. Food and the book of Isaiah also helped. It was with quiet pride that I made the coffee before B, Captain of the Morning got up. His bustling efficiency & exuberance in the AM has been a wonder since our first days together when he called me early one Saturday morning (at least it was before 9.) He started to describe his apocalyptic dreams the night before, while I clutched the phone and moaned silently. "Gee, you sure are up early!" I croaked sleepily after 10 minutes of dream analysis. " Yeah, you know, I guess my first impulse of the day is to find someone and talk to them!" he told me, chuckling. "Red flag! Red flag!" I thought.

And somehow we've managed together for 10+ years and his morning super powers have really been the hand of God extended to me. He would bring me coffee each morning, giving me flowers and reports on how the garden looked in the morning light. A neighbor cat used to accompany him, jumping on my bed and kneading my legs in a quietly reassuring way. It totally pandered to my self-diagnosis of MI (Morning Invalidity).

Her Strident Tones Pierce Through Me

But then G came along, as cheerful & unquenchable a morning sprite as ever strode through the dawn. Most days I let them alone together, enclosing myself in a shroud of dim light in the back of the house, trying to sleep through the squeals, shouts, ukulele chords and Sound of Music re enactments.....

Easter

We started a tradition on Easter morning of visiting a nearby meadow at sunrise. We watch the mist rise above the tall grasses, ringed with old growth redwoods and scrub oaks. Some years we see owls, this time it was bunnies and deer. We sing together and read the Easter narrative. I think we started it in order to ensure that we were able to keep Resurrection Sunday in a way fitting with the joy that we found in our hearts; especially since a multitude of other things (family dinners, church, Easter egg hunts and this year, art shows), threatened to envelop the day. Well, Easter morning we woke to G's requisite AM greeting: "Mommy or Daddaaaaayy!" It was 5:30. B leapt out of bed and soon the two of them were laughing and shouting about being at the meadow before the sun. I followed gamely, albeit it silently. And of course it was lovely.

Rosa, Pillar of Salt

But this morning, at 5, I expected to be awake for an hour and then to go back to sleep (G usually doesn't wake up until 8:30). G popped up at 6:45 and hasn't looked back. Me, I'm Lot's wife. And I'm looking back at a morning lie-in that has been destroyed in a maelstrom of fire.

Pretty melodramatic, I know, but as I said, I'm not a morning person.

(photo credit: found on Flickr; taken by real life friend Peter Thomsen. Thanks Peter!)