Joanna Wescoatt

Joanna is a wife to a seminarian, and mother of 4 kiddos. She teaches English and Spanish at Lutheran South High School in St. Louis, where she enjoys torturing teenagers by making them write essays and learn verb conjugations. She grew up primarily in Latin America, as her parents were missionaries. She currently resides in St. Louis while her husband completes his studies to become a pastor.
I’m normally a great sleeper (sorry to all you insomniacs out there!). I’ve gotten to the point where I get sleepy at an embarrassingly early time, at times competing with my own kids’ bedtime routines, but I need my sleep, dang it! Once I’m down, I can usually stay down for the night, a robust 6-8 hours, depending on the day’s schedule. That is, unless something wakes me (preschooler needing to go to the bathroom, preteen waking with a coughing fit, highschooler needing his middle of the night bowl of cereal fix…), at which point I’m wide awake.

And this is when the wrestling happens. Just me and my mind…Will I be able to get back to sleep?
My middle daughter does not like thunderstorms. She begins to shiver at the first rumble, and no matter how many times we try to tell her that nothing is going to happen, she’s not convinced. Sure, they’re loud, they’re menacing, and they can sound pretty scary, but ultimately, as long as you’re inside, they can’t really do anything to you. They might make the lights go out, but they can’t actually hurt you directly.

While I might chuckle at my daughter’s reaction to thunderstorms, I realize that there are times I’m not that different. Cue the devil: ~You know, you’re not really appreciated around here… look how your husband takes you for granted… you deserve