For months, my mornings looked like this: 6am hits — right on cue, my oldest first and now the baby too, I haven’t needed an alarm in years — I don’t cook breakfast, I move to the couch, and I lay there half dead while my kids play around me. Not resting. Not really present either. Just… surviving until the next thing. I told myself it was temporary. It wasn’t. It was the direct result of not sleeping, night after night, for way too long. And it wasn’t just my mornings that were collapsing — it was everything. Laundry sat…