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Wednesday, January 12, 2005
One of those Nights

It's just one of those nights. I know when they are coming. First they are preceded by one of those days. One of those I-Know-I'm-an-extrovert-but-I-need-to-introvert days. I don't really want to talk to anyone (except one who's not here and it's not really talking that I want to do) and I mostly just want to crawl into bed and sleep until the weekend.

Now mix in one very romantically sweet but sad novel (P.S. I Love You by Cecelia Ahern) and you have one of those nights.

I'm just a little lonely is all. I don't really need to talk to anyone. I just need the presence of someone. I just need to hear the breathing of another human being. Instead I have to make due with laying in bed, a pillow wedged into my back so I can lean against it.

And when that doesn't work, I tip-toe into my son's room and lay down next to him for a wee bit. Listen to his breathing and wonder how I can ever be exasperated with him. How I can ever snap at him. How I can ever do anything but press my cheek to his little blonde head and hold him.

Last night was rough, he wouldn't go to sleep. He laid in bed, calling me every 10 minutes to make sure I was going to come back and check on him. Finally I asked if he was a baby (usually the answer is no) because babies have to be rocked to sleep. Well, on that night he was a baby and he did want to be rocked to sleep. So I picked up my almost three and a half year old son and rocked him for a while in the same rocking chair I've had for his whole little life.

And I sang to him. Went through every lullaby I know actually, even a few country songs. And for that short time I had this moment of clarity that this exact sliver of time needed to be cherished. He tucked one arm under his head, and reached the other up to rest on my neck. The same way he used to sleep just a couple of short years ago.

His breathing lengthened, deepened. He relaxed in total contentment and I thought of how incredibly lucky I am to have him. And how special it is to know that you have within you the power to bring complete contentment to someone else.

Tonight I laid down with him and he fell asleep quickly. I wish I could do that. Fall asleep in contentment. It seems that I'm either awake because I need to do something, or awake because I can't fall asleep. As tired as I feel tonight, I can't fall asleep. It's too quiet. My room is too void of life. I question my own future and wonder if I'll ever truly believe that I am enough.

But I know in my mind - in that thinking part that is so rarely given the opportunity to govern my life - that I will. I know I am enough. It's just one of those nights.
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 10:34 PM
  1 comments



1 Comments:
At 10:30 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

This was a beautiful post. I love it when one of my son's wraps there arm around me. :)

Audra

 

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