A few Fridays ago, I had an unspoken directive from Johnny: whatever you do, take a nap. He had a special celebratory dinner planned for the evening at a fabulous restaurant in D.C. in honor of the launch of my new pillbag business, and he wanted to make sure I would be rested enough to enjoy it. It was a wonderful gesture - he's always so good at "celebrating" things -and he'd invited his mom and dad (who were in town) along with my sister and brother-in-law to join us. It was sure to be a wonderful evening...although a few hours before we left, things weren't looking so good.
I had intended to get a good nap - rest up and all that for an evening of fun, but it just didn't happen that way. As I recall, I put the girls to sleep around 2:00pm, but then I chose to do a little work until almost 3:30pm. (Bad, bad, bad Sara.) I was counting on getting a good hour in from 3:30pm to 4:30 or 5pm, but of course, that's not the way it worked. Both girls woke up, and although Paola was in charge, Deirdre insisted on coming in to see Mama (which she never does), Bernie was inconsolable for a brief period of time (which she usually isn't), and all of a sudden, it was 5pm and I had logged only about 45 minutes of intermittent sleep. Uh-oh.
Johnny would not be pleased...because he knows how hard it is for me to put on a good show with less than an hour of sleep under my belt. Particularly because the reason I only had a measly forty-five minutes of sleep was because I'd chosen to work instead of sleep. Definitely a wrong decision.
But then...I made a right decision. I had an errand to run before 6pm, and Johnny offered to come with me, since Paola was still working. As we were driving, I said something about being a little tired, and he asked if I'd gotten a good nap. I said something to the effect of "no", and he asked why not. I told him about working instead of sleeping, and he wasn't happy. Actually, he was disappointed, which is even worse.
And then I just said what was on my mind, which was, "What I really want to do is to pull over, take a nap in this quiet, childless car, and go back to the house rested and relaxed." He asked if I was serious, and I said I was kind of serious. He looked at my weary, teary face (I cry when I'm tired) and decided we needed to be serious - so he immediately pulled over into the school parking lot around the corner from our house, parked, and told me to nap. And I agreed. I leaned back my seat, and slept for a good 20-30 minutes.
And he...just sat there. Yes, he had his Blackberry, and sure, he enjoyed some quiet time without Deirdre and Bernie asking him to play (or me jabbering in his ear), but he really is an all-star guy. He continues to keep me on the path to living well...no matter how many times I stray from it.
I woke up, rested and ready for an evening of fine dining and enjoyment.
And enjoyable it was. We had a wonderful night, and I felt fabulous the whole time. I wasn't tired or weak in the least bit - and it was a great feeling to be rested enough to thoroughly enjoy my special evening out. We even ran into my perinatologist at the restaurant. He kindly sent over a complimentary drink to the table, which prompted us to tell him why we were there in the first place (the pillbags). And because I was well-rested, I could talk intelligibly about my business, my plans, and all the rest. It was a perfect ending to a perfect evening.
And it will be a long time before I forget how almost un-perfect the evening could have been. Sleep first, work second. Always, always, always!