Not in a "I wish I could get 8 hours instead of the 7 I now get" kind of way. In a bone-weary, completely exhausted, haven't-had-a-good-night's-sleep-in-6-years kind of way.
I love my dear children. I wouldn't trade them or the experience of being a parent for anything in the world. But it would be nice if they actually let me sleep for more than 2 hours at a time.
Last night, after an exhausting day of trying to keep the house clean for showings, I finally turned out the lights at 12:30. Aubrey then woke me up at 1:45, and I was back in bed at 2. Then, at 4:45, Aiden comes in feeling sick to his stomach. After getting him settled back into bed, I crawled back under the covers at 5:15, but I lay awake for quite a while before I could fall back to sleep. Brad's alarm went off at 6:50--but he had already gotten up and moved out to the couch (damn snooze button), so I was forced to get out of bed and turn it off, then go wake him up on the couch. Back to bed until Aubrey woke up at 7:45.
And this is just one example--it seems most nights go like this. Aubrey wakes up at least once. Aiden ends up in our room for various issues--bad dreams, a glass of water, a need to go to the bathroom (which, is ridiculous, because he walks past his bathroom to the opposite end of the house to come into my room, wake me up to tell me he has to pee, use my bathroom, turning on the very bright light, and then making me walk him back to bed). And then there is Freckles, the dog, who seems to have a sixth sense that tells her to wake me if the two kids happen to let me sleep for more than 3 hours at a time. By morning, even on days I get into bed "early" (before midnight), 8 hours may pass, but I will only get sleep in 2 hour snippets.
I know what you are thinking--what about Brad? Where is he? I'll tell you--snoring in the bed next to me. The drawback to having a spouse who has been to war and learned to sleep through artillery strikes is a husband that no longer hears a thing in the night. He sleeps right through the baby crying in the monitor, through Aiden's visits to my bedside, through Freckles' whines and whimpers. Even through the bumps or noises that make me sit up in the night and say "What was that?!"--if burglars come to our house, I'm on my own! I've tried waking him up to get him to go tend to the kids, but by the time I poke him and shake him awake, I'm awake and listening to everything he does, unable to fall back asleep until he returns to bed, so what's the point?
The good news: parenthood has prepared me for a variety of careers once my kids get older. I could be a great obstetrician. Or a paramedic or fire fighter. Or exotic dancer--any of those night time careers.
Oh well. I guess I'll sleep in 18 years or so, when they are out of the house. Scratch that--I'm sure by then, I'll be worrying all night about them while they are away at college. Guess I'll sleep when I'm dead.