I done it to myself.

Every night, around midnight, I have this thought: "I have STUPID for brains." Then I just keep doing what I'm doing, which is trying to read a book I have been putting off while people were still talking on Facebook. Then, at 6 or something, Tristan wakes up and I am metaphorically kicking myself in the metaphorical head. 

But I keep.doing.it. Because my "second day" is so precious, when I can eat food without excessive amounts of feedback, like, "Mmm. I never had a chip before. What does it taste like?" (lurk, lurk, lurk)  Or I can read articles on news sites without Toby suddenly shocking me by asking, "What the hell?" and just as I am preparing to pull a Phineas and stab him through, I realize he is reading comments that say precisely that. On the Huffington Post. Over my shoulder. Whew. Or I can watch youtubes of whatever without having stern looking toddlers around, saying in a dissaproving voice, "That man said STUPID. Does he love God, mama?" Stuff like that. 

I just sit in my bed with my Oreos and my earbuds, and I am a free woman. So it's hard to shut that down for something lame like sleeping. 

Don't get me wrong, if you're feeling all like Judgy McJudgerson. I love my kids. Love hanging out with them, answering their questions, scooping stuff out of their mouths while they're trying to choke or whatever. They are my joy. But I also love looking at them sleeping. A LOT. 

This recharging dynamic is so crucial, though. Maybe someday soon, I will go to sleep at 10. I will shut my computer down, read some improving chapter and then lights out. Or not. Probably not.