6 a.m.

Muffins baked, fruit peeled, cut, and ready for juicing, water bottles filled for skating, time alone with God (and Katie)…… that brings us to 6 a.m.

I’m trying to let go of the idea of a solid night sleep. You’d think that after twelve years of not having one I’d be over that by now. I sort of am, but I’m attempting to really, truly embrace the idea that all of my sleep doesn’t have to happen at the “normal” time. At night. (Though I still haven’t figured out when it will happen.) If a baby is bright-eyed and ready to go at 4 a.m. why lie in bed fighting? Especially if maybe these times are an unexpected answer to a certain prayer. So this morning after fighting for a while, clinging to the notion of getting in at least five and half hours sleep before my alarm goes off, I finally got the message. Get out of bed! Get some things done! Dump a pile of rice puffs in the high chair tray for your baby and talk to God! So I did. And it’s been good. Sweet baby girl has just conked out in my arms so I’m off to tuck her in, have a peaceful shower, and wait to greet my other waking children.

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