I woke up at 9 a.m. on a Saturday to the delightful sounds of Frozen playing in the background. My three kids, including the youngest, had been up for what felt like an eternity, yet they hadn’t disturbed me or my partner, Sarah. She was still snoozing, likely catching up on a decade of lost sleep, while I stared at the ceiling in disbelief.
We were finished having kids. Steps had been taken. More or less, we were just waiting for Leo, our little bundle of energy, to stop wandering into our room at the crack of dawn asking for juice, cereal, or whatever wild idea popped into a 3-year-old’s head at that hour.
I was also counting on my son, Jake, and my daughter, Mia, aged 10 and 7 respectively, to follow my guidance on how to whip up breakfast for Leo and put on a movie so that Sarah and I could enjoy a few extra hours of sleep on the weekends.
Honestly, we were waiting for what felt like an endless series of gears to shift in our household dynamics so that we wouldn’t have to spend Saturday mornings alternating between waking up early and catching a few more z’s. The merry-go-round of getting up early with the kids and switching at around 8 a.m. had us both dragging until nearly noon.
I won’t speak for all parents, but sleep is the holy grail in our home. Sarah and I constantly barter for it, so having the kids up and managing themselves on a Saturday morning felt like a miracle.
I rolled over to glance at Sarah. As she opened her eyes, she squinted, confused by the sunlight streaming in. Both of us were far too accustomed to being jolted awake before the sun even thought about rising.
“What time is it?” she asked, sounding like she was in a dream. After so long without a solid stretch in bed, it felt like we had stumbled into a time warp, back to the days when we could sleep in without a care. Back to when we’d grumble about being tired after too much sleep. Back to when waking up before 9 a.m. felt like an actual sacrifice.
This is one of the overlooked challenges of parenting. The relentless cycle of functioning on little sleep is nothing short of exhausting. Don’t get me wrong; I adore my kids. I wouldn’t trade this sleepless existence for anyone else.
Before having kids, I had no true understanding of sacrifice, and sleep deprivation is a significant part of the parenting journey. I had endured nights of insomnia before, but with children, there’s no pause button. They wake you early. They keep you up late.
The more kids you have, the more chaos reigns at night. One might go to bed early while another rebels against sleep. And just when you think it’s calm, the third decides to have an accident. They all seem to wake up before daylight, regardless of when you put them to bed. And this isn’t just a fleeting phase; it stretches into years of sleepless nights followed by early mornings, until you forget what it feels like to sleep in.
“It’s 9:05 a.m.,” I announced.
Sarah’s eyes widened in surprise. She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, speechless.
“This might be the best day ever,” I said.
Sarah didn’t respond. Instead, she held my hand, and we lingered in bed for a few moments, savoring the rare tranquility.
But, as it usually goes in parenting, it didn’t last long. Our toddler appeared at the door, her face smeared with chocolate. The gooey treat dripped down her neck and onto her Peppa Pig pajamas, and it was mashed into her tousled hair.
She beamed up at us.
I had no clue where she found the chocolate or who gave it to her, but I felt confident it was a disaster waiting to happen in the living room.
In that moment, though, I didn’t care. I was just thankful something like this had happened at all. I had no idea how long it would be until sleeping in on Saturdays became a regular occurrence, or if it would be a rare treat.
What I did know was that I felt more hopeful about this whole parenting gig than I had in ages. Sleeping in until 9 a.m. made me feel almost human again. It’s incredible what a good night’s rest can do.
Leo tried to climb into our bed, but Sarah intercepted him before he could spread chocolate everywhere. She scooped him up and carried him off to the bathroom for a quick clean-up.
I stretched at the edge of the bed and suddenly heard Sarah say, “Thank you for letting us sleep.”
Leo giggled.
I ventured into the living room and was greeted by a delightful mess. As a parent, I often say I’d do anything for more sleep— and I think every parent does. So, you know what? That chocolate mess? Totally worth it. At least it wasn’t something worse.
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Summary:
Waking up to a rare, peaceful Saturday morning when the kids manage themselves is a blessing for exhausted parents. Amidst the chaos of daily parenting life and the challenge of sleep deprivation, moments like these remind us of the joy and hope that come with family life.
Keyphrase: “sleeping in with kids”
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