Getting a boost!

Last Tuesday I got a shot of penicillin in the arse. Yep, 36 years old and I donned my never saw the sun skin to a nice medical tech or nurse, not sure which he was, Andy, and gratefully received that long needle in my right cheek. 

You see I was dragging! Vicious headaches, raw sandpapery sore throat, aches everywhere for five days, until finally after my hubby’s urging I went into after-hours care to see my daringly talented neighbor, who also happens to be a doctor, who swabbed my throat and proclaimed STREP! 

I awoke this morning, still sick, but with the promise of getting better, to this quote from the Dalai Lama as one of my first facebook feeds. It was a gift.

“In daily practice, reflect on the benefits of love, compassion and kindness, then reflect on the disadvantages of anger. Such continuous contemplation, the growing appreciation of love, has the effect of reducing our inclination towards hatred and increasing our respect for love. By this means even anger can be diminished.” 

You see, I have been feeling maxed as I shared a few posts back and when I get maxed, anger creeps in. This is not fair to those around me. It affects my relationship with my husband and the littles, when mean momma raises her vicious head. You see I loathe anger in myself. A friend of mine made the connection between her sleep habits and her resort to anger as a tool for kid management. She brought what was lingering beneath my consciousness to awareness. An Aha moment you might say. Thanks Jenni, and, now I too am joining the sleep make-over. 

My sleep makeover began last spring when I was still pregnant and Katie pointed out to me that working with a computer or iphone in my room late at night is not good chi, and does not promote good sleep, Then, Katie visited me when my fourth was ten days old and raved about her sleep system, eye mask, ear plugs, white noise and zzzzzzz, it helps take the edge off. She even went as far as mailing me my own sleep system. Now after being sick for five days, (something I also loathe, and do not have time for,) I realize even more with school around the bend I need a boost and it is not just through penicillin in the bottom or sleep alone, but also prayer. I’d been neglecting my prayer, which I have a hunch will make me slow to anger too. So this time when I kneel it will be for grace and not just an antibiotic makeover. And instead of letting myself get so run down to the point of needing an antibiotic boost, I'm going to get a sleep boost and hope that makes my immune system naturally balanced and healthy! Bye bye strep! And with school around the corner who couldn't use a few more zzzzzz's.

My sleep pledge: I will shoot for 9-10 pm bedtimes, no iPhones or computers within reach, and last thing uttered on my lips prayer and the first sounds spoken grace.

Post Script: boosters do hurt and if you want to do your littles a favor rub the spot out after they get a vaccine!

Awake in the Nest

It's official...nesting instincts have kicked in, and the early morning rise has begun. It's 4 am and I can't fall back asleep again. I have tossed and turned and meditated, and finally I relinquish to the fact that even though it is dusk outside and the streetlamps are still lit, all indicators that sleeping hours are still upon me, I am wide awake!

My boys are asleep, my husband is snoring, my dogs are snoozing, and one car has driven down my street, which is curious. In Santa Fe no car would be coming down those red earthen roads except perhaps my husband’s in route to catch a flight in Albuquerque with the moon still out. This time two years ago on this day, the 26th of February I awoke in labor in Beverly, MA with our delightful third son. I was looking at his birth pictures last night and that rush of relief when he was placed on my chest after a few hours of pushing came over me all over again. I am getting excited for that feeling again. It's the birthday of Johnny Cash too, who I think is a creative genius and whom I hope shares some of his spirit with my son born on this day. Goofy thought maybe, but...

Sweet relief, moments after birth, two years ago today.

 L., our second son, just coughed in the other room and it sounds like the croup. He used to get that all the time as a babe.  I hope it is not.

As part of my nesting I feel this urgency to decorate our home, to really make it ours. I don't want to run out and buy the things I want to create one of a kind originals like this. Don't fret I will not start making felted creations as promised. But I do feel the need to create and inspire my space. Perhaps this is what I will begin doing when the rooster crows at 4 am and sleep is nowhere to be found for me.

Sleep

I took it for granted in my prebabe days--that it would always be there, that I could dabble into it when needed, wanted, desired; like an old coat hanging on a hook waiting to be worn again. As a five year old, I resisted my mother's enforced naps just because she needed a rest. I balked at early bedtimes, even reasonable ones. For a long stretch I could stay up all night until I hit my junior year in college and then all nighters lost their appeal. My energy drop did not come at night it came in the late afternoon when I found myself sleepy, but unable to nap because of sports or after school commitments, or homework, or now children.

An attempt to sleep when Finn slept!!!

Then I had my first son, Finn, and everyone sang the chorus, "Sleep when your baby sleeps." I couldn't comprehend this simple concept when the sun was still up, the dishes piled high, lumps of laundry teased me from its corner. I didn't, I couldn't master the skill of on demand sleep like on demand feedings. It wasn't until I had earned the hindsight with the arrival of our second son, Liam. The morning naps I stole with Finn as a baby vanished, because while Liam needed them, Finn no longer did. My window of morning writing vanished too. The desire to sleep when Liam slept haunted me. Yet Finn's tending to demanded my wakefulness, my awareness. It seemed I became a narcoleptic until dark when both boys settled into slumber this jolted me into action to steal time to read, write, create, anything but my need for sleep. A vicious cycle.

It wasn't until our third, that I got it. With the additional help in those early weeks around us, I would disappear with our third boy, shut the door and snooze greedily. Nuzzled into his sweet smell, our breathing regulated by one each others presence. I got it, that sleep so needed, so sweet, so seductive became my sweetheart. I was foraging for sleep like squirrels do in anticipation of a long winter, knowing that soon, in another season, when he woke up more at 4 months old it too would elude me again.