It was a tough night. NOT like those nights when BoBo was an infant, and I was working long 12 hour night shifts in the pediatric ICU – to come home to my sleep deprived husband – who was just waiting for me to arrive so that he could head off to work – and I had no sitter. No. Not that kind of tired.
I was exceptionally beat from the activities from Saturday. It wasn’t much more than my usual weekend stuff. Besides my run, Tom, YaYa and I went for another “family bike ride.” These are done at a pretty leisurely pace, but perhaps the extra time in the sun took it out of me.
I was drained by the time I laid down with YaYa at about 9:30 pm…or so. A bit later in the night, I woke up and went to my own empty bed. Tom and BoBo were out at the movies watching Invincible.
I guess it was around 1:30 am when I heard Tom’s voice from downstairs. He was reading some of his writing. A piece that I was familiar with. Perhaps it was the piece about his Dad, or the story about YaYa seeing the Easter play. Which writing piece is not important. What is important is that he was reading it OUTLOUD.
Well, at least I knew that he and BoBo had gotten home safely. I got up and closed the door. I went back to sleep. At least I think that I went back to sleep. I can’t be sure. Ever since I had kids, I’ve gotten to where I sleep so lightly that I hear every noise both in and out of our house. Through the wee hours of the morning, I was awoken several more times. By the time YaYa showed up at the side of my bed, I gave up any hope of getting rested up for today’s run. Perhaps today will be the day that I get left behind, I thought. Perhaps I should bring my iPod just in case.