Chloe announced to me today that she is now a princess, "I am be real pinsess, Mommee." Wonderful. I thought I'd see how far her imagination would take us, so I asked some very pertinent princess questions, such as:
"What does a real princess do all day, Honey."
"Prawbe (probably) I go visit people."
"What do you say when you visit people?"
"Prawbe I say, 'hi'. Prawbe I cook for dem. Yes. I do."
All this while she is gently pushing the random strays of very fine blonde hair out of her face with both hands. She looks so matter of fact about all this. She does have her special pink high heel shoes on after all - what else does one need to be a real princess?
"Prawbee I hep (help) people all day yong (long). Yes, I am be real pincess. Me have baids (braids). Me be yight back Mommee." She takes such pride in her newly acquired role. She even deemed me a princess too. I'm so lucky to have my very own pink princess!
It is interesting that she has taken to making her princess so proper. She used to don her beautiful princess dress, pick up her purple light saber (a gift from the boys) and run around the house yelling, "Pincess dirl, pincess dirl" and making swooshing and flying noises - all no doubt because of her brothers' superhero influence in her life. It's so nice to see her becoming more genteel.
Chuck has been out of town for a 3 days now. I am starting to run low on fuel - and not the kind I put in my car. I can not sleep when my husband is not home. I barricade the house like Fort Knox. I double and triple check all the doors and windows. I slide a heavy chair in front of the door. I leave all the lights on. I stay up as late as I can until my head starts to bob to one side and I feel the effects of exhaustion sweep over me. Now. Now is the perfect time to attempt to allow myself to fall into a fitful 'sleep'.
However, all the lights on in the house are keeping me awake. Or maybe it's the one of the little people I let sleep in my bed. They each have gotten a turn to sleep with Mommy. More for my own peace of mind. They all make their own unique noises and twitches. This also keeps me awake. Last night, Gavin was also sleeping with his light saber - in my bed. Not that I'm not grateful for the extra amount of security that allotted us - but I think it was a bit over the top. I've never slept with a light saber before.
The previous two nights brought maybe 4 or 5 hours of sleep - accumulated. Anyone who knows me, knows that I REALLY need all 8 hours. I feel like I'm back in the throws of just bringing a new born home. Sleep is elusive. It's all I think about. Yet, I can't relax enough to enter the Land of Nod for more than an hour at a time. But last night was the kicker. I wanted to find my time card and punch out. I'm off duty. No more Mommying for me for the next 8 hours. God had other plans, however. It seems this is the week of Mommy needing to learn to give more of herself even when she feels she can give no more. It is a lesson I need to learn and am walking through wearily.
I finally dozed off somewhere around 11:30ish (VERY late for me). At 1:30ish I hear the swishing of little feet on the carpet approaching my side of the bed. I groan inwardly as I expect Chloe to come crawling in bed with me. How I wish it were only my little wiggle worm. Instead, it was Bennett. "Uh, Mom" he says. "What's wrong, Honey? Did you accidentally pee in your bed?" I ask. "Uh, no. I woeuflskdhfasiefhaosdjfsalkdjs....wahhhhh!!!". He started talking in his signature high-pitched, little piglet squeal, and I couldn't understand a word of what he said. I finally was able to get out of him that he threw up all over his bed.
My first thought was, Daddy normally handles this - I can't. I'm tired. I might throw up too. Then who's going to take care of me? It took a while for my compassionate motherly instincts to kick in. It then dawned on me that he might not be done throwing up so I bolted out of bed and ran him into the bathroom where we sat for a while. While he was washing his face, my second thought came to me, Oh man! I hope this doesn't mean we can't have our playdate with our friends tomorrow. I'm wreaking with compassion at this point. I'm thinking more about what I want instead of my poor, puke ladened child. The sight of him pulls me back to reality and all selfish thoughts seem to scatter (momentarily, at least).
Bennett asks if he could sleep with me now, since his bed is a mess. Uh, No!! I cannot allow the possibility of puke upon myself or my bed. But instead I answer with, "Honey, it would be better if you slept in Gavin's bed so you could be closer to the bathroom." My next step is to enter the room and remove all hazardous materials. This is definitely NOT my forte. This is the part Chuck so lovingly does. I don't know where to begin.
So, at 2am I find myself up on the top bunk, my head way too close to the ceiling, and my nose way too close to that awful smell. I somehow managed to get all affected materials off the bed without getting any on me. I threw it all in the laundry room and decided to deal with it tomorrow. I'm sure I'll have greater clarity of thought in the morning. Right about now I'm thinking, I'm glad I never went into nursing. I so couldn't handle the hours or the smells.
Our mini-disaster has come to a close and I re-enter my beloved bed wide awake. This begins the time of 'brain overload' where it feels it must think of everything and anything and the problems and solutions that lie therein. My thoughts range from the rain outside and progress to more and more unimportant issues, such as: our water heater, what would happen if our water heater exploded, I should probably come up with an evacuation plan, what if our roof collapses, we should probably have our a/c unit checked, have we changed our filters recently, I guess things could be worse, at least I'm not in a concentration camp....ad nausium. I was unable to find my brain's turn off switch for 2 whole hours. How lucky for me that Chloe decided to enter the picture at this time. She comes climbing into bed and continues to rotate her little body like a pig on a skewer for the next 30 minutes.
Enough! Before I say anything that might make her cry, I swiftly pick her up and head back up stairs to lay her comfortably in her own bed. I tell her it's still too early to come cuddle and head back downstairs. I just get the covers pulled up only to hear her screaming bloody murder. I sprint back upstairs and ask her what's wrong. "I hear a noise." She sobs. I can so understand being scared of the dark and of noises - I am right now too. But I assure her it's only the rain hitting her window and she's safe. That seems to work.
Again, I crawl into bed with my heart rate now highly accelerated from my little midnight exercise routine. The doctor did recently tell me I should exercise more - but this is NOT what I had in mind! God in his mercy, allowed me to continue sleeping for a full 3 hour stint - it was wonderful. All that to say, boy to I have a whole lot more compassion on single parents now! Not that I'm not already immensely grateful for my husband, but I'm even more grateful for our midnight team work, for the times throughout the day he so lovingly gives me some alone time, for the constant affirmation he bestows on me for the 'job' I do day in and day out.
Thank you, God, for your grace during this time. The only way I have been able to make it thru this week is by his grace alone. Thank you also for giving me somebody to take care of me - I like that.
