Sleep.

Oh how I love sleep. I love clean beds, clean PJ's, cool cotton pillow cases ironed to within an inch of their lives, a good, gentle book and SLEEP!
I remember being a child and being able to sleep at the drop of a hat, tired? ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ lovely. Christmas eve was a toughie but somehow Santa always came so I must have nodded off at some stage.

I am now a raging insomniac, well perhaps raging is taking it too far, more or a grizzling wimp of an insomniac because I am so bloody tired, anything else is beyond me. My average rate of sleep is 4-5 hours a night THAT IS NOWHERE NEAR ENOUGH!! Between twitching restless legs and a mind that decides it can be bordering on altzeimic all day but PING 10pm and it's up and running at a terrifying rate....I just never get to sleep before 2 am. Hooray for a husband that gets up at 5 am with the early birds that wake before dawn in this house. I stumble out of bed around 7am and feel I am on my knees, walking through treacle with a concrete block on my shoulders . I somehow begin to actually feel some kind of life stirring about 8.15 when I take the Seth-Meister to school and in between chores dream of a nap...oh the daytime naps....I can climb into my bed at anytime in the day and be asleep in minutes....WHAT'S UP WITH THE NIGHT TIMES THEN?
Sometimes, I actually see the funny side, if you've never seen anyone with restless leg syndrome you are missing out on a treat.....I could win a dance competition with my leg moves if it weren't for the fact that I am usually lying down ( heaven help me if ever a paramedic should happen upon me mid leg twitching as I'd have a spoon between my teeth before you could say "Epilepsy").
The feeling is akin ( I would think) to having several thousand very angry ants of colossal proportion running up and down the inside of your leg skin. It starts as soon as my head tells me I am tired enough to go to bed and begin to relax and the absolutely only way to get any kind of relief from the ants is to move my legs, very very quickly. I don't know anymore if the moving is voluntary, Jordan and Sophie sit open mouthed staring at them as I suppose it must look pretty impressive, Jordan has asked if I am 'doing that' and if I try and do it when my legs AREN'T being eaten alive from the inside by the nightmare colony of ants I can't do it. If I could move them that quickly in an upright position I could run marathons ( except I would look so bizarre because the movements are so fast and jerky....Monty python would sponsor me I bet you!) If I try and fight it I go into spasms which is really no fun! This rigmarole happens on average 5 nights a week and once it starts it is at least 2 hours before the ants die or go to sleep or falldown in exhaustion. The relief is enormous and then I know I can crawl into my heavenly bed...then my mind will start. Now, why in the name of all that's logical, can't my mind be running in time with my legs? I could solve the problems of the 3rd world if that were the case, brain cells twitching along with the legs? I'd be Maggie Thatcher reborn! But no, whilst legs are twitching brain is muttering " Oh dear Lord let me sleep, oh please stop twitching, wonder what's on TV.....oh Airport, fascinating."
Actually, courtsey of my legs I am pretty sure I could qualify in many high flying and satisfying careers, I have watched heart transplants, natural births, houses being built, police documentaries, ( good old 'Cops'!) I could find my way around Miami and save dogs who are starved and tick ridden..I have even seen, in gory detail, thanks to a marvellous and very jolly surgeon, a complete transgender realignment ( although even not being the owner of a penis the actual amputation and turning inside out of skin was a trifle too graphic and I clenched shut my eyes and thighs whilst listening to the commentary, so it's probably not a good idea relying on me to perform one) On a tangent here about the jolly surgeon, I do worry slightly that although she is urologist extraordinaire her hair is always very grubby and greasy looking and escapes the hat too easily for my liking...I mean to say if you are going to be chopping off willies you think a bit of consideration would be in order when it comes to hair hygene, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't be able to work in a chip shop unless the hair was covered...also if you were going to be operated on by this lovely and accomodating lady you wouldn't feel able to say ( when asked if you had any questions) " I wonder if you might mind washing your hair before you operate" After all the very LAST thing you'd want to do is offend someone who is about to ........ just a thought.

So.....here I am, weary to the bone and wishing beyond wish that I could just clean my teeth and slide into my bed knowing that I would actually sleep. Ho hum....but just think of what I would have missed in those extra 5 hours a night.