There's this rule in the physical & spiritual universe known as Motherhood. It does not matter what super-secret ninja skills you possess or how soundly your child is sleeping--the moment you finish reading your book and close your eyes, there will be a 2 second pause, then screaming. It feels like it's the child's metaphysical Relaxation Alarm going off. *Mom*Is*Relaxing*Must*Interfere* And often you've stayed up too late already, relishing your alone time, so you have (to be honest) a little angry guilt mixed in with the exhaustion.
As I roll over in bed, I've done exactly that. Every joint tells me how tired it is, and every muscle is just a little achy. I luxuriate in the coolness of the sheets and the softness of the mattress, realizing a little tardily that there is nowhere I'd rather be.
::Cough cough:: ::scream!:: I wait the 3 seconds that it usually takes dutiful daddy to jump up, but he groans pathetically. Very unusually, it's my turn. I slouch impatiently out of bed. She wants to go potty.
She sits on her toddler potty and I sit opposite her on the cold, hard plastic of the big one. We are both woozy with fatigue, heads bobbing as we try to stay upright. She rubs her eyes with chubby little fists and gets all tangled in her hair. And that's all it takes--I realize that there's nowhere I'd rather be.