Cue the Hallelujah Chorus: the babies are sleeping through the night.

Last week, we moved them out of our room and into the kids’ room. It might be the best parenting decision we’ve ever made. All of a sudden, they started sleeping eight or nine hours a night.

Which means I’m sleeping eight or nine hours a night. (Oh joy, oh bliss, oh night divine.) Several people, upon hearing this marvelous news, have asked if I feel like a new woman.

Actually, not so much. I feel like a very, very tired woman. After three consecutive nights of good sleep, I’m more exhausted than I’ve been since I started living better through chemistry.

My doctor says it takes about two weeks of good sleep to feel immediate relief and two to three months of good sleep to fully recover. If this new turn of events continues (knock on wood), that means I’ll be feeling like that new woman by the ides of March and be fully rested by the time we go on vacation in May.

That’s the hope, anyway.

In addition to these three nights of blessed sleep, I’m also grateful for (in no particular order, except the order in which I wrote them in my journal):

My red hoodie.

Moleskine journals and datebooks.

An article I wrote last year got accepted for publication – and they’re paying me for it!

Those little blue pills.

Morning hugs from Jane.

Jack’s laugh.

Baby skin, so soft.

Paperwhites in bloom.


An email from my friend in New Zealand.

Ephesians memory work.

My dishwasher.

Did I mention sunshine?!?

Hot tea soothing my sore throat.

12 pairs of baby socks from my mother-in-law, who pitied the poor twinfants: they were down to one pair each.

New-to-us books from the library.

Michaela is done with her year of intensive chemo.

The Jesus Prayer.

My rocking chair.

Doug, always.

Psalm 148.