I'm someone who falls asleep the second her head hits the pillow.
But if I wake up in the middle of the night? Well, suddenly sleep becomes as elusive as a pair of boots that comfortably fit my wide calves.
(Can you tell I'm in the market for snow boots right now? I've been told to try Sorels.)
Anyways, last night around 2am, Goldie woke up crying.
"What's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?" I asked.
"I'm thirrrrsssssty!" she mewed.
And so, I shuffled into the kitchen, filled a glass with cold water, and sat with my drowsy toddler while she took a few sips.
Goldie drifted right back to sleep, but I was wide awake now.
This middle-of-the-night insomnia started when I was pregnant, and I guess my hormones were permanently changed because it hasn't gone away since.
Supposedly, the worst thing you can do in these moments is look at your phone screen, which is exactly what I did last night. Here is a list of things I googled and/or pondered from 2 - 4am.
I wonder if I have any Scottish ancestry. (I do! 12%! Thank you, Grandma Betty!)
New York/Vermont towns + on the water + affordable
Will Adam let me stencil the stair treads in Cincinnati? I'm thinking some kind of folk art pattern.
Oh, what if I paint my nook with yellow stripes? That would be really cheerful.
I should hang star lanterns in there, too. I love that look.
I can't wait to get our Christmas tree. I hope we can still find a live Christmas tree once we finally get home.
How did I live without a hot water bottle at my feet at night? This. Is. Heaven.
I'm so glad I don't live in the 1700s. (I'm reading Ariel Lawhon's The Frozen River right now.)
Okay, maybe I'm actually too hot, and this hot water bottle isn't necessary tonight.
A boy at Goldie's daycare once asked if she was an only child and then said, quite definitively, "I think Goldie will always be an only child," and my womb ached.
I wonder how much snow we will get this evening.
I miss childhood birthdays.
I miss childhood Christmases too.
But I'm glad we're a Santa household again. Oh, how I love believing.
Why is there something a little melancholy about the holiday season as an adult?
Do you have to be a trust fund bébé to open an independent bookshop?
There is nothing like having a dog in your bed.
I hope Marigold gets a Maine Coon Cat someday.
I just closed my eyes and saw a purple orb. Now I must google “meaning of purple orb.”
Do you ever get middle-of-the-night insomnia? Where does your mind wander?
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