What kind of jerk goes to bed on time, nicely, no fuss, only to wake at 1:15 AM with insomnia? It isn’t as if I got a few good HOURS in before I was up. I am currently typing as “quietly” as I can (on my parents’ laptop, mere inches from their open bedroom door) while waiting for the combination effect of a glass of wine, an OTC sleep aid, and some sort of generic vicodin to kick in. My children are slumbering quietly together in the guest bedroom upstairs – a full-size bed I try to accommodate myself to after being spoiled with my king at home. It seems the older I get the more picky I am about where I sleep. It doesn’t help that tomorrow I am house-hunting and full of fears, worries, and mental refuse.
I could have it worse; I thank Sweet Baby Jesus for the ways I have it good. My children were cheerfully good company on our 3-hour drive here. They took off their shoes and advocated for the right to pee and asked, many times, when we’d get to Hoquiam (and grandma and dinner). They were polite at the meal (custom-pizzas designed by my mom, a cook whose competence and joy in cooking I myself have grown into), they took baths without complaint, they went to bed easily and happily. Sophie has been not sucking her thumb for the past few days (since her last dentist’s visit) and she just lay next to me and DID it – fell asleep with her hands by her side.
The last few days my children have made my life as easy as they can; Nels has stopped having accidents in his pants, he is listening to Mama, he holds my hand and tells me great stories. Sophie is so intelligent and entertaining to be around I constantly look forward to seeing more of her. Life has changed from the days where I longed for their nap so I could have “me time”. I still want “me time” – I always will – but I no longer feel desperate for personal space, for sleep, for escape.
My parents are helping us out, most importantly (to me) by being there to discuss every little thing. They are also providing us with home-cooked dinner, with a backup plan of staying with them (please Lord no), with support and understanding for what we are trying to do. I think they’ll even provide us with a loan for moving expenses as our cash flow bunches up oddly in these last few weeks. Note to self: kiss ass more.
Life would be perfect if I was just moved into our new place already. God-dammit.