As a young girl, I would go downstairs to get a drink of water only to end up scaring her half to death as she was scrubbing the kitchen floor on her hands and knees — too lost in her own thoughts to hear me approaching from behind.
It was not uncommon for my sisters and I to bruise an arm or leg as we woke in the morning because we happened to walk into the living room completely rearranged by mother (who was always staying up late) at 3:00 a.m.
I could never get over how much that woman was able to accomplish while we were sleeping.
I cherished the times I would find her wide awake and engrossed in some household task. She would greet me with a warm, reassuring smile as she polished the silver, or cleaned out the fridge.
She was my willing and captive audience. I could tell her about my day, or what boy I liked without having to worry about being interrupted by one of my sisters or a call from her office. I loved it.
Mom was a great sport about it. Never once did she complain that I was interrupting her time or make me feel unwanted. For that I thank her.
She might even deserve sainthood for it because now I know how precious the hours between midnight and sunup are for a mom.
As tired as I get and as much as I may regret my lack of sleep the next day, I treasure my nightly solitude from staying up late.
I also love to watch my three children sleep. The same kids that had me contemplating boarding school hours before now look like angels as they hold their pillows the same way they did as toddlers.
Memories of babies lying in my arms fast asleep after a 2:00 a.m. feeding come flooding back.
I would sit in my rocking chair and will myself to remember the feel of a sleeping newborn, or the sweet smiles of a toothless six-month-old.
The time has gone by so much faster than I could ever have imagined. Each day moving faster than the next. Much sooner than I care to admit, I won’t need the quiet of a sleepy house to recharge my spirit. My children will be grown and gone.
I guess I’ll sleep then.
For now I will enjoy my peaceful sleepy house. And remember to buy a better concealer for the circles under my eyes.
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This post originally appeared at My Dishwasher’s Possessed.
