QT in the quiet hours

Sleep or the lack of it has become almost a non-subject for me third child in. I'm often amazed by the human being's capacity to cope on a physical as well as emotional level with all sorts of hardship. But working mums have to take home the prize for doing a great deal more than just function on the back of maybe 4 or 5 hours of broken sleep. I notice that when I dare to marvel at this capacity my darling husband will make comments such as, "Tony Blair and George Bush survive on less than that and the next day they have to get up and run a country." Bless him. But I notice that it's always me that gets up to attend to the two year old who has had a nightmare or to allow the five year old into bed with us or to cradle the baby in my arms and rock her back to sleep at 2am. Non-mother friends often gape in disbelief about this, but I think I've worked out what gives women the strength to do this and then just get up and go to work the following day. It's a simple thing called love. Because most of the time, even when I feel ragged with exhaustion, there is still something special about comforting my children in the dark, quiet hours before dawn. Lying quietly with Ava (6 months) between 5am and 6.30am this morning, her fingers wrapped tightly round one of mine, I just enjoyed the peace. Call it whatever you like, those hours can become precious quality time when the day is taken up with work of the paid kind.