The wee hours

I really should be in bed. It’s been a rough week sleep-wise. Henry is working on another tooth (or three), Stevie was up one night not feeling well and then headed out of town, Cadence ended up in my bed and coughed through the night from her allergies, Electra has been alternating between snoring, howling in her sleep, and dropping noxious gas bombs in the middle of the night, and I…well…I can’t seem to turn my brain off once the kids go to bed and the house finally gets quiet.

Never fails, the best ideas and inspiration always come while I’m in the shower, while I’m driving, in those hazy few moments in the morning when I’m not quite awake and Henry is just starting to stir, or late at night when I’m yawning and over-tired and really need to be sleeping.

So what do I do?

Well, I’ve got a pen and notebook by my bed. I’ve become a master at jotting quick (and sometimes cryptic) notes when I’m sitting at a stoplight. I keep my phone within reach when I’m in the shower, so I can type a quick note before I lose an idea.

How’s that for multi-tasking?

But what do I do about those late night bursts of ideas and inspiration? I go with them, as long as I can, knowing that it might translate to an extra cup of coffee or feeling a little rundown the next day, but also knowing that it’s worth it to get the words on the paper and see the story coming together.

But nights like these, when I’m running on a week of barely four hours of sleep each night and feeling like my poor brain is starting to fry, I think maybe sleep is not all that overrated, and that it just might do me some good to tap out early and crawl into bed right after the kids do. That was certainly the plan tonight but, well, you see what happened.

Perhaps I should had taken a clue from Electra. Seems she’s got it all figured out.