Say the word. Sleep. It starts out smooth and easy and then has this abrupt ending. Just like it is in my life. I have a love/hate relationship with sleep. I hate going to bed, but love falling asleep (and happen to be really good at it). I love the quiet stillness of mornings, but hate getting up early (and happen to be really bad at it). I love to sleep, but hate that I need so much and never seem to get enough.
After I gently put Addison back in bed from an early morning feeding, imagine my chagrin when first I can't get back to sleep, and my surprise when second I decide that I don't want to. Afterall, I tell myself, I went to bed around 10:30/11:00 and Addison didn't wake up till 5:30, so that means I got a good 7 hours of sleep, and if I fall asleep now (6:00), I'm just going to have to get up in one hour to take Haley to school, and I'll probably feel even more tired then because my body will have gone back into REM, because I'm really good at getting there, and so it will be even harder to get up. Sound logic, right.
And then the mattress started talking. The mattress is the sleep devil that stands over the left shoulder that contradicts the productive angel that stands over the right. "But Janae you need more than 7 hours of sleep, and you still feel tired. Besides, you might not get this opportunity again when all the kids are asleep..."
The mattress is very convincing, but sound logic and productivity had a more convincing counter argument: "you can get ready for the day before the kids get up, and you can always take a nap." So I got up, telling myself I could always take a nap. By this time it was 6:30. I showered, dressed, and ate breakfast, feeling quite pleased with my triumph over the mattress. I even put in a load of laundry.
Around 7, I tried to get Haley out of bed, only to discover that she still felt sick and wouldn't be going to school today! I tried to convince her to go to school, needing to validate my whole reason for getting up early. But it was to no avail. So I went and lay on my bed.
It didn't last long. I kind of had this epiphany (and decided to get up and write about it). I never want to get up because I'm afraid that I'm not going to get enough sleep. That and sometimes I'm just dog-tired and functioning when I'm sleep deprived is no fun. I got enough sleep last night, but I didn't trust that because I woke up at a foreign hour. Somewhere in my psyche is this idea that there is not enough sleep to go around, so I have to take what I can get even if I'm not tired. Perhaps that developed even more keenly over the last five years of being awakened at all hours of the night and day from my sweet darlings.
Anyway. So Stacy, I don't know if I would choose my super power as not needing sleep. Because I do enjoy it. Perhaps being able to survive on less would be a good super power. 
