I Am Really Tired

Normally, I stay up late to write my blog posts.  It's the only quiet time that I have, just me and my cat Pounce, and the rest of the house sound asleep.  Unfortunately, the past couple of months have been extremely stressful, and I'm starting to feel it.  I am bone tired, folks.  I don't even want to lift my arm long enough to hit the snooze button, let alone get out of bed. When I think of my halcyon days of youth, when I would stay up for four days just because I was having too much fun, I feel a little inadequate, but it is what it is.  These days I am just happy to make it through the work day awake. 

So I am going to bed early tonight.  However, I am not going to leave everyone hanging.  Here are some random pictures of wildflowers that I've taken with my camera phone while on my walks.  I hope they are a mood lifter, if you need one.  Enjoy!

The Art of Being Lazy

Yesterday started off busy.  We were supposed to be up with the sun, dressed and ready, for my son's first soccer game.  The very idea of us being up early on a Saturday must have caused a disturbance in the Force, because when I got up, the ground was wet.  It had 'misted', spit, tinkled, sprinkled--whatever you want to call it.  It did this enough to cause the soccer games to be cancelled, since the commissioners did not want small children playing in the mud.  No, the mud on the field was to be reserved for the older kids, their white uniforms notwithstanding.  Larry took Zane to his grandma's house for a visit, and I was alone.

The sudden reprieve ended up being a blessing, because I got to be lazy today.  I'll say that again, just to make sure that you heard me.  I got to be lazy today.  How often does that happen to any mom?  I decided to take advantage and live in the moment.  I took at least two naps.  I finished two books.  I read the paper.  I sipped at my coffee while it was still hot.  I started a new book.  I took a long shower and actually shaved my legs.  Later, we all watched Wreck-it Ralph. 

It was a pleasant day with no hurries or worries.  How often does that happen?  Usually, when I have a moment to be lazy, my brain suddenly remembers this very long list of "honey-dos" that would keep even the most efficient person busy until Christmas.  Today, the list maker part of my brain shut down.

Tomorrow we will all be on the crazy train again, running to and fro and back to trying to keep up with the movement of life, this appointment, that appointment, etc.  And that's okay--I am not knocking a single moment of that slice of chaos.  I wouldn't trade it, ever.  However, that doesn't mean that I won't enjoy the occasional lazy day.


This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post (in the sidebar). .
• Link up your post here.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

Stealing Time

 


I haven't had a lot of  "Me" time lately.  Between work and getting everyone ready for everything after work, I haven't had much time for me. I can't remember the last time I've been able to read uninterrupted for longer than five minutes.  By the time I've been able to sit down and work on my blog posts, I'm practically passing out at the keyboard.  I should just go to sleep and worry about it in the morning, but darn it, I need my time.  I've become very stubborn about that. 

I'm an introvert.  I need quiet on occasion.  I need to retreat inside my head for a little while every day.  That is just how I am.  When I can't do that, I get grumpy, then confused, forgetful, and anxious. I understand this aspect of my personality, and I do try to allow myself some of that quiet time. Unfortunately, life doesn't always cooperate, and my batteries get very low, and they stay low, just when I need to be on top of things. 

So how does one recharge a depleted battery when there's no down time to do so?  Perhaps a mini-vacation to a spa?  Maybe just a mental vacation, a few minutes of meditation.  Power napping?  Looking at pictures of sleeping cats?  Take the dog for a walk? 

Everyone seems to look to me for answers.  I should be able to come up with a solution for this, but my brain seems to be complete mush right now.  I guess I just need to sleep. And nap.  Maybe retreating into dreams will help me recharge.  I could dream about the quiet places...

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post (in the sidebar). .
• Link up your post here. 
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

Goodnight

 Mamakat's awe-inspiring prompt: Share something your child taught YOU about parenting.

When I was younger and going to college, I read all the child development books. I read all the behavior management books. I took many courses on working with children, managing children, etc. Once I began working as a school psychologist, I observed many children in their natural habitats and in the classroom.  I made recommendations to parents and teachers.

"Mama, I need to tell you something."

"Go to sleep, son."

All that time, there was a little voice inside my head. It was a smug and superior voice who said  "I will have the best behaved children on the planet, because I have amassed a vast and intricate knowledge of children and behavior modification."

"Mama, I REALLY need to tell you something."

"GO to sleep, son."

Then I actually had a child, my own little bundle of all that is good in the world.  When my child started becoming independent and telling me no while he toddled away from me, I started using the tricks of my trade.

"Mama, I really, REALLY need to tell you something!"

"Go to SLEEP, son."

Positive reinforcement? Been there. Negative reinforcement? Done that. Clear and consistent rules established. Discussion of why certain rules are important? Completed. Use of visuals to illustrate age appropriate concepts? Check. Ignoring unwanted behaviors? Check.  Use of 'broken record' when child uses distractors to delay?  Got those, too.

"Mama, I HAVE to tell you something!"

"Go to sleep, SON."

I broke out the sticker charts for potty training.  The boy started 'needing' to go to the potty every five minutes because he knew that after the tenth sticker he would get a treat.  Who knew that a two year old could figure the relation between the number of stickers and the treat and use that information to solve a problem? I consulted my books. 

"Mama, please, I really, REALLY need to tell you something!"

"GO. TO. SLEEP. NOW."

We started using coins, and a bank, and having him 'buy' items that he wanted with his coins.  This worked out great, until we realized that he had conned his grandmother into buying him what he wanted, so he wasn't all that keen on earning what we had purchased.

"Mama, I HAVE to tell you something!"

"WHAT????  What do you have to tell me right now, when you are supposed to be asleep?"

"I love you, Mama." 

"---? Awww. That's so sweet.  Now go to sleep!"

What has my child taught me, four years into this parenting experience?  My son, with no formal schooling, has taught me that while books on parenting can be helpful, there's no substitute for experience.  The more I 'know' about parenting, the more I experience the realities of raising a responsible, independent adult,  the more I realize that I don't know a damn thing.  And that is okay. 

This boy, this cherished and precious part of my life, who drives me nuts sometimes,  is my textbook on parenting.  It's the same, yet different, book that every parent writes with their own children, as they grow up, and older, together. It's a book that reveals all the secrets of the Universe that can be found in the eyes of a child, and in the love of a parent.  That is the best parenting book in the world.

A Voice In the Night

"Mom!"

I heard it from a distance, a far off voice.  I struggled to the surface of my dream.   What is going on?  Who is this mom?  What is all that racket?  My brain is still poolside, sipping a tall,fruity drink brought to me by a cabana dude who looks remarkably like Batman.  

"Mom!"  

I don't usually sleep deeply.  Usually I have one ear trained to listen for my son throughout the night.  Occasionally, however, I just can't help it, and it's extremely difficult for me to wake up when I am that far under.   My consciousness smacked me.  Get up, your child needs you!  Your child is calling for you in the middle of the night!  There may be an actual emergency!  My heart raced in response and I shoved myself from the bed with a sudden alertness that belies my addled state.  I stumble through the dark, hitting the wall with my knee.   

"Mom!"

"I'm coming!"  It's only about ten feet, but it feels like a hundred because I am still groggy. 

"Mom, Wake up!"

"I'm here, son."  I am out of breath, panting from the adrenaline rush, but I am at least next to my child, and I am ready to help him.   "What's wrong?"
 
"Zzzzzzzzzz..."

It took me a few minutes of standing there to realize that Zane had been talking in his sleep.  Then I had to wrestle with my inner child another few minutes, because I wanted to wake the boy up just because he woke ME up. 

The next morning, Larry wanted to know why I was so cranky.  I think that I would have been justified if I had punched him, don't you?

I Am Jealous of My Kid

My son fell asleep on me tonight. He was watching the Avengers, and he just. Could. Not. Stay. Awake. (I feel like I'm impersonating William Shatner when I do that thing with the periods. Gettin' my geek on!)

Now he is flat on his back in his bed, his arms flung hither and yon. He's out, dreaming of reciting the Green Lantern code with Hal Jordan. Actually, that is what my husband dreams about. I don't know what Zane dreams about, because he can't tell me yet.

My point is that I am envious that my boy seems to sleep so peacefully. I haven't slept peacefully in years. I usually have to use sleep aids, such as melatonin. I don't ever remember just getting into bed and falling asleep quickly. Zane gets still and he's out. I'm jealous. Sometimes I get so jealous that I want to wake him up just so he can know how I feel. I don't actually wake him up...but I do think about it.

It isn't fair, and sometimes I have to wallow in the Trough of Self-Pity.

I get up early.

I work hard.

I tote that barge and lift that bale, whatever that means.

I should be able to fall asleep quickly, without resorting to valerian root.

Instead, I usually lay there, wide awake, looking at the ceiling, thinking about how many cobwebs are up there.

I make lists.

I compose bad poetry.

I make up entire novels in my head, then convert them to screenplays.

I make lists.

Yeah, I said that twice. Because at that point of the night I have forgotten that I already made lists, so I have to start over.

All of this explains why I resort to sleep aids, including yoga, visual imagery, meditative breathing, etc.

Just because I get jealous of my child with his peaceful sleeping does not mean that I don't want him to have peaceful sleep. Quite the opposite. He is a young child, he is innocent until proven guilty, and he needs his sleep. He'll be an adult before I know it, facing his own occasional sleepless nights. Let him sleep.

But it would be nice if occasionally my son could share some of that sleep with me.

My Son Takes After Me

Larry went to wake up Zane this morning. I was in the bathroom, getting ready to blow dry my hair.

"Zane, it's time to get up," I heard Larry say. No response.

"Zane, wake up!" Larry tries again. I hear stirring.

"Daddy, I still sleeping!"

Of course I had to laugh, because that just so happens to be what I say on most work days.

Summer is Sleepytime

This is the point in my year when I realize that I will have to go back to work in less than a month. It's depressing. Just when I get used to not having to be awake at the crack of dawn, I have to get used to being awake at the crack of dawn.

My natural sleep rhythm would have me wake up at around 10am every morning. It has been this way my entire life. My natural bedtime is around 11pm, but I can push it to midnight. Too much later and I'm a mess the next day. But if I operate according to my natural rhythm, I can be productive. Life is good.

Unfortunately, nobody else on the planet seems to be the least bit interested in sleeping past 7am, including my son. So I am screwed.
Another issue for me is nap time. Since I can't sleep until 10am, I need a quick nap right around 1pm. If this country had siestas, it would be perfect. Research after research says that people are more productive after a nap, that we require the proper amount of sleep. But we happen to be a nation of idiots when it comes to sleep cycles, so I have to fight to stay awake. Which sucks.