 I don't mind waking up at 5:45 to a little hand on my face and a sweet little voice saying "book". I have somehow slowly turned into that morning person that I had longed to be (almost unimaginable). Up early even before Lance some days (few, but still). Lakyn and I are often up singing, dancing, reading books, getting our day on well before 7am. I'm more than okay with that. I look over at her now swinging her Rapunzel doll around her pretend dance floor and my heart feels like it is going to explode... just so full of joy and love for this tiny little being that I was blessed to have grown in my belly (whaaaaaaaat...).
But notice how this story began.... that child has somehow found her way into sleeping in the bed with me. And yes I say me because she and I sleep in our extra bed while Lance gets a bed and a full night's rest all to himself (just a tiny bit jealous? possibly) How did this happen, I ask myself? We started out with her sleeping in her own bed so where did we go wrong? Well, there was this sickness, teething, earaches, bad weather and maybe a time or two that I heard something outside and just wanted her close... you know, safe in the bed with us. It has been suggested to me to put her in her bed and let her cry. I tried it... once... for a few seconds. I just can't do it. Everything in my whole body literally won't allow it.
Please, be advised that I am in no way stating that the baby in the bed is wrong or that letting them cry it out is wrong either. What I am saying is that neither of those things are working for us. In a previous post labeled "Bedtime Tyranny", I explained how important sleep is to me and let me just say that all of those bedtime bylaws have gone out the window completely as there is no way to communicate that important information to my one year old. I am lucky at this point to have a pillow and a blanket. Don't get me wrong, I love snuggling and sleeping with Lakyn up until she turns sideways and proceeds to kick me all night. I wrongly imagined that I would be getting sufficient rest at this point. Am I again having unrealistic expectations? Will a full night's rest elude me until our children (assuming we may possibly have another) have graduated highschool and have moved to college? Or will I sit up at night even then worrying over them (again assuming we may have another)? While my mornings are somehow joyful (praise Jesus!), the nights are still full of wake ups, disrupts, sit ups, leg ups, just up when one should be resting peacefully and
At first glimpse of this title one might suspect this to be mostly about a mommy and her baby's bedtime schedule. It is not. Bedtime tyranny began long before the blessing of motherhood. You see, sleep . . . which used to be considered beauty rest (pre-baby) . . . is very important to me. Unfortunately, I was not a natural born morning ray of sunshine. That is something I have to work very hard at . . . I have come a long way on this journey, but I am still a work in progress. You see, motherhood has helped me along or more like catapulted me into the mornings, taking my morning time personality from grouchy and growling to pop up and let's get rolling but still don't talk to me. Here's the thing. . . I not only need my coffee, but I have to have a firm 30 minute talk with the Lord on how His SON will shine through me because without that talk. . . well, it's a pretty rocky ride when I try to navigate alone. While I work on being on morning person and have successfully moved up in the levels as far as that is concerned. . . bedtime is a whole different thang, yes thang. I admit I am not the easiest bed partner. I start getting ready for bed as the credits roll after Wheel. . . Wheel of Fortune. . . yes, I watch that. I know there is a little elderly lady inside me running this soon to be 30 year old. All major, bright lights are OUT, only nice lamps that put off just enough light that make you want to relax. The TV gets turned down, no loud noises. Just easing into nighttime like 2 pieces of 600 thread count sheets being rubbed together. Speaking of thread count, this is the part where it gets tricky. . . the bed clothes. I like the bed to be made before I get in it. I like the blanket corners to match up with the sheet corners. That is absolutely NOT negotiable. There has to be one long pillow for me to "ride" also known as the "riding pillow". It sounds silly as all get out, but I tell you this. . . that riding pillow will take me to sleepytown and there is nothing silly about that! Rest is important, people. And one short pillow for my head preferably a squishy one. . . the kind where you sink into it a little. There can not be a single grain of sand, crumb, tiniest piece of anything in the bed, big negative on that. No lights. . . not even the light on the TV. If the ceiling fan is not the kind with some good zip in it (and I mean the kind that when it gets going on full speed you think it may lift the room into flight) then I will need a box type fan. This is for 2 reasons. One being that sometimes our dog might get lonely and decides to howl all night and the fan puts off just enough noise so that you can not hear that mess or any other mess that might occur in the night and interrupt my resting cycle. Secondly, the fan puts off the nicest wind and makes you want to pull that perfectly aligned sheet and blanket up around you and get snug. All of this is good and fine and I don't think there is a thing wrong with it (even though some might think it a tad bit OCD). But there is another person involved. . . namely Husband. Husband throws caution to the wind in the line of matching the blanket to the sheet so if he finds himself in bed before me and I come to join him and it looks like a big fat mess. . . well, it is not the best discussion one could hope for in a marriage. I know the whole thing about how you should pick your battles. Trust me, I know it. This is the one I want to have. Remember, I said sleep is important. We have been bed partners for over 3 years now and one would think that he would know the bedtime bylaws and how important it is to the happiness for all involved to get it right. So after I have laid down the law and Husband is in compliance. . . well, as much of compliance as can be expected from a 6'2" fella in a queen sized bed. Staying on "his side" is not even an option. . . the only place I have managed to give some wiggle room in the bedtime bylaws. (I'm not OCD afterall.) As I snuggle myself into my perfectly made bed and rub my feet around feeling the soft sheets. . . wait is that a grain of sand? Nope, we're good. Night, night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bug bite
 I have always heard that the time goes by so fast when your babies are little, but I never imagined how ridiculously understated that is. The time literally zips by in a blink and it leaves the mind wondering if it is real or not. I want so bad to capture every moment and hold on to each little laugh, smile, cry, every sweet, wobbly step. No matter how much I want this time to last, I know it is zipping by. Our girl just turned 10 months last week and took her first steps. Oh my gosh, what am I going to do. She could walk right out the door! I know they grow up and leave. . . I just can't bare the thought. I guess that's what the teenage years are for. But at this moment, this child is mine and she is growing way too fast.
Not only did she take her first steps last week, I let her have her first ponytail. . . well I gave it to her. . . or I administered one . . . And I admit to shamefully wondering why little girls walked around with crazy looking hair. I always thought I was destined to have a girl because I know how to braid. . . ha! What a joke! A simple ponytail on my sweet girl was not an easy task to say the least. So if you see her with her ponytail please gaze upon its teeny little beauty because that thing did not happen without a tantrum and sweat on both our parts. My crowning achievement thus far.
It truly does feel like yesterday we were waking up to go to the hospital to have her and now 10 months later, here she is toddling around carrying Patty the Pink Puppy whose bow is tattered and donning pieces of animal crackers even though I managed to sneak her away for a wash only yesterday. I can't help but tear up thinking how she really isn't mine at all. I am only borrowing her. . . or more like blessed with her.
Lord, my God in Heaven, You have given me this amazing gift. I know with such a gift comes an enormous responsibility and I want so bad to tell her all about You and tell her all the things I wish someone had told me along my way (without having to learn the hard way). Lord, I beg You, please, wrap Your arms around her and carry her through her days. In Jesus name.
Once upon a time, in the midst of our courtship, Lance (now husband) began calling me "bug". In my mind, the word bug referred to a creepy crawly creature ending with some sort of "pede". I imagined pulling up an old rotten stump and seeing all shapes and sizes of slimy, wriggling, writhing creatures crawling around a damp, rooty habitat. So, I was intrigued as to why my love would refer to me as something I thought of as detestable. A man had once told Lance of a type of bug that would bite him and forever change his life . . . the love bug. Immediately, I was sent afloat in a cloud swarming with these sparkly, colorful love bugs. That was 4 years ago and I still swoon when he lovingly calls me "bug". (Yes, I love the cheesiness and yes, I am absolutely certain he will get embarrassed that I thought it necessary to share this side of him with the world.)
Now, let me explain the "whimsy" aspect of my title. I have this whimsical, magical, quirky sort of way of thinking about every day life and my experiences. Not that I have extraordinary experiences or magical adventures, but that my way of thinking makes my every day experiences extraordinary and I find adventure in the most unlikely places . . . say, Target. I began to share these adventures and a peak into my thoughts and my life through social media sometime ago and a blog was requested. So is born my type of bug, The Whimsy Bug. I hope you enjoy each experience along with me in my journey through this adventurous, extraordinary, magical life.
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