My daughter woke up at 3am today. I wish I was being hyperbolic - she legitimately started our day at 3am. And all I could do was pray.
I begged him to cast a narcoleptic spell on her, he didn’t.
I begged him to let my babies sleep through the night because I knew if I had to get up and feed them, my toddler would be up for good.
They started chirping the second I stopped my prayer.
It was as if God was LOLing my prayer requests. He left me on read.
I had no choice but to turn on Stick Man (Netflix, wassup) and accept my fate. This was happening. I was getting up at 3am.
There are a lot of mothers out there who like to pretend that getting up at 3am for their children is better than staying out til 3am with their friends like they used to.
They think that if they admit that every aspect of motherhood isn't better than every second of their pre-baby life they must not be good mothers. False, your past isn't in competition with your present. They don't need to be ranked.
So here I am. Mad at my kids. Mad at God. Mad that I wasn't stumbling into my house in a Polyester Forever 21 "dress" at 3am, with only my bed and a Crunchwrap on my mind. Instead, I was waking up.
But I did a small something the night before that I never do... I prepped my coffee. Which is an annoying/tedious process (French press) when I could just push a button on a Keurig or conventional maker. But I do it every morning because JESUS I will not let these children rob me of everything that makes me happy.
First, they came for my body, then my sleep, but they will not take away the one socially acceptable stimulant I can still use while raising them.
I repeat: I NEVER prep my coffee the night before. 0 out of 3 billion times. But on this morning, it was ready to go when I needed it most.
God didn’t solve my problem, but he prepared me for it. He didn't answer MY prayer, but he heard it before it was a thought in my head.