To sleep, perchance to revel...

On the way home from our annual Minnesota Renaissance Festival visit, Tara and Emma fell asleep in the car.  I love when they do that. 

Over the years, I've come to derive a certain sense of fulfillment and job satisfaction from watching my children sleep.

When they were toddlers, it was the only time they were peaceful.  The Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder that came standard with each of them colored and distorted every minute of their waking hours, the youngest three especially.  By day they were inexhaustible power stations--bouncing through rooms, leaving mayhem and destruction in their wakes.  There were years for each of them when they were so difficult that it was very hard to like them.  But, at night...at night, I would make my rounds to check on them after bedtime.  And as I peered quietly at their sleeping forms, their waking issues dissolved. 

One of LH's and my favorite science fiction series had a character whose race believed that when people slept their true faces were revealed.  That resonated with me as a mother.

As I sat by my children's beds for a few moments each night, stroking their pudgy little cheeks and fingers, and smoothing their hair, I could easily see their souls, their divine worth so plainly on their faces.  Without fail and no matter the frustration of the day, my heart would ache with a love for them powerful enough to wipe away my emotional exhaustion and strengthen my resolve to be more attentive, more patient mother the next day.  In those few moments, Heavenly Father repeatedly communicated to me how precious these children are to Him and how worth it were my sacrifices for their care and keeping. 

They're no longer small, but I still check on them every night.  These days, however, it's the sight of sleeping children during daylight hours that's endearing and satisfying. 

As the children matured and my ability to cope with their waking hours increased, a zonked-out child began to mean that I had matched my children's needs and proclivities to an outing so well that they were completely exhausted (body & mind).  It meant that I had beaten the ADHD.  I had won! 

Now that my children can govern themselves better and I know what their ADHD riddled bodies and minds need for a successful outing, I really enjoy taking them places.  Outings now involve vastly fewer chases and public meltdowns (although they still love the stories of those former moments), so I can now introduce them to things that challenge and enthrall them. 

We love hands-on museums, sculpture gardens, beaches (sand & surf!), trains, zoos/animals, play-grounds, hands-on historical reenactment sites, renaissance festivals, fireworks, parades (if there's candy to chase), and lots of individual sports. 

And then when we're done, I get that glorious ride home smugly listening to them snore and watching them through the rear-view mirror as they slump over into endlessly amusing contortions.  I have NO idea how they are comfortable sleeping the way they do, but I'm always pretty pleased with myself that they're THAT tired.

Ian & Emma 2009

Kay 2007