I love to sleep. It's been shown that Introverts need more sleep than Extroverts and if I'm any indication, it's true. The worst thing about mornings is that they come every single day. If it wasn't a requirement for life, I'd do away with them all together. I can sleep for hours, take a nap, and sleep some more.
Parenting makes me tired. Probably more than anything else. The talking, the lack of personal space, the constant activity...the talking. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade my Little Nut for anything but, seriously, it's exhausting. It's a curse for us Introverted parents. I mean, every parent is chronically tired, but the Introverted mother finds no peace.
You'd think with this exhaustion I would want to sleep whenever I could but I find myself wanting to stay up late, even avoiding an opportunity for a little Sunday afternoon nap in favor of...silence.
Blessed, blessed silence.
Sleep is great but before you know it you're awake again and the noise starts all over again, so I stay awake and revel in silence...or noise only I choose to make. Usually I'm so over-extroverted that nothing truly productive gets done during these times but even totally exhausted time without a hyperactive three-year-old feels wonderful. No grabby hands and high-pitched singing and endless questions...just me, by myself, on the whole couch.
Sleep? Sleep can wait. Silence is calling.
