Midsummer Night

I am eating my Peanut Butter Captain Crunch as various minutiae orbit my mind. The peeling laminate on the drawer, the baby in the photo, the loud washing machine containing the VBS shirts that need to be clean by tomorrow. I should brush my teeth and go to bed, but some nights, like this one, delay me. What is the thing I should be doing instead of sleeping?

I am too tired to think of it. Pull away, brush the teeth. The bed will stop the searching, unless my pillow puts the answer in my head.

On Frogs and Other Things

This weekend my children were playing at the water table we have on the deck. Critter touched what he thought was a toy frog. He screamed (he is a ten-year-old who screams like a little girl) when the "toy" moved. It turned out to be a green tree frog. We looked it up on the internet, and it had not yet been documented in our county. Our county is the farthest north in Georgia in which the frog has been spotted. I think we parents were more excited about this than the kids.

Later on that night, Bubble Boy decided he did want to eat his chili after all. He sat at the table and started chowing down. Steve and I were watching t.v. in the adjacent living room. I looked over at the table, and Bubble Boy was gone. "Where's Bubble Boy?" I say. Steve says, "He must have gone back to bed." "Oh, O.K." We preceded to have sex right there in the living room, watch porn, cuss like truck drivers, get drunk, worship the devil... JUST KIDDING! I was still shocked to see him sleeping under the table. What if we were doing all those things? What if I left him there all night and creepy things crawled on him (there is always some kind of grub left under our table to which creepy things might be attracted)?
Don't ask me why he's wearing Halloween pajamas in August. Laundry is a challenge around here. He's lucky he's not wearing a Cinderella nightgown.
Maybe he just wanted to be first in line for breakfast in the morning. I think there's only one bowl of Captain Crunch left. Who knows when Mommy will break down and buy Cavity Crunch again!

11:00 PM

It is eleven o'clock. I need to be asleep. I have to get up early to take the freeloaders to scout camp.

Alas, laundry needs to be folded. Spiderman underwear and Cinderella nighties don't care that I should be in dreamland now.

Lunches need to be made. Bologna sandwiches with two slices of cheese and a smidge of Duke's mayo could care less how tired I am.

I have procrastinated long enough with email, Facebook, and watching fireflies through the window (who also don't care that I have to sleep soon).

Every night my life is punctuated by the arrival eleven o'clock. I feel that dreadful tug of time at its end. Time I want to spend but it is already spent. I must pay the debt of sleep, and sometimes like a child, I avoid it.

ZZZZ

Dear Pillow

Dear Pillow,

I miss you and can't wait to put my head on your cushiony goodness again tonight. Maybe this time, teething one-year-old won't wake up at four in the morning.

Longingly yours,

Angel

My Little Chrysalis

I went into to check on the kiddies before I went to bed last night, and I couldn't find my three-year-old. He wasn't in his bed, under his bed, or on the floor. Sometimes he sleeps under his brother's crib and pretends they are in bunk beds. He wasn't in his "bunk bed" tonight though. Not in the closet or bathroom.

I was about to do a full-house search and alert Daddy when I noticed the little Ikea rocker had legs. Hmm. I saw a little tuft of blonde hair sticking out. He was fast asleep in there.

It reminded me of a little chrysalis. He was tucked so neatly inside. Maybe he was practicing his bomb/tornado/big brother pummeling drill.