There are two kinds of tired: the kind that sleep fixes and the kind that it doesn’t.

This was supposed to be our respite weekend – Kiran was signed up to go spend his weekend at Easter Seals. Since his bio dad moved to a different state, it has become the one weekend a month that we get a break from constant caregiving.

But he was gunky, stuffy, coughing, on Friday. The report from school and how he presented after school led us to make the decision to keep him home to rest. But that means our weekend of rest this month dissipated.

We should be sleeping. It is Saturday night. Kiran went to bed around 7:30, his usual, and we are still awake. It’s after 11:00. We know that we should have gone to bed two hours ago, but we are holding onto our “break”.

It is a constant trade-off we handle: Do we sleep or do we have time to do the things that bring us joy? Even if those things are watching cooking shows (Master Chef season finale; first episode of Hell’s Kitchen) and Password.

Tomorrow morning will come at us sooner than we want it to. It always does, whether it be Tuesday or the weekend. But sometimes, we have to choose us time.

There’s a saying: “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” – and sometimes, we cling to that truth.