Today

I didn't sleep well last night, which is odd.  Normally I sleep great, even if I'm worried about something.  Losing sleep is just not something I do.

But last night I wasn't feeling well, so I took drugs and went to bed early.  The catch was that I still had a bunch of homework that needed done, so I had to wake up early.  That's not something I normally do, but I figured I'd still be getting 8 hours of sleep, no problem.  I was just shifting forward those 8 hours a little bit.

Well, it technically was 8 hours from the time I laid down until the time I got up, but I probably slept about half of it.  Such is life.

Here's the good part of this story.  I had been awake for about half an hour when Elijah walked out of his bedroom crying.  I asked him what was wrong and he said he'd had a bad dream.  He sat on the couch, watching me sign because he "didn't want to talk about it."  Eventually it came out that in his dream I left the family.  Just left.  Elijah told me, in his dream, that I couldn't take anything with me, not even my clothes, because I was choosing to leave.

My little mommy heart just ached for him.  I have scary dreams like that sometimes, and they feel real at the time, even if you know in your logical brain that they would never happen.

I imagine, though, what would have happened if I hadn't been up early.  He would have come into my room and I would have been groggy and not at all sympathetic.  I would have told him to go lay back down in his room or something.  Instead, I was able to hug him and love on him before leaving for the day.

Which made it worth waking up early despite not sleeping well.  Sometimes it's nice to be grateful for the little (but oh so important) things.