We had a lovely, full, 4th of July weekend.
On Sunday, I took a nap with my wee babe. I fell HARD into a deep sleep. For about 7 minutes. And when I was forced out of that precious slumber, I could barely move.
I put the baby in his walker and slithered to the floor so my body would block his path--keeping him confined to a safe zone. My arms felt like they weighed 500 lbs. What's wrong with me? (And because I'm a special kind of crazy) Could I have cancer? (It's always cancer.) Mono? Acute liver failure?
I tried to will myself to get up off the floor. My body was having nothing of it. My baby rammed his walker into my legs. Over. And over. And over. And again. My husband happened upon us.
He took mercy upon my pathetic plight. All three children were gathered together for a long walk/bike ride. But not before he asked me if I would rather move to the couch. If only it were that simple!
He laid a blanket on top of my lifeless legs and filed everyone out the door. What a hero, what a guy!
I lay on the floor contemplating my next move. I closed my eyes. I should really take this opportunity to sleep. But think of the laundry I could get done! And that bible study I will need to have done by Wednesday....now would be the PERFECT time. Oh! OR! I could sew! Ah!! I could water the garden. As my mind raced with possibilities, my limbs became lighter. 'It's a 5th of July Miracle! I can move once again!' I thought to myself.
And I became an object in motion tending to stay in motion.
Until my husband and kids came home. And the tired came right back.
I'm thinking the tiredness could have a whole lot to do with the fact that I haven't had a good night of sleep since August 2001. That, or anemia.