We all do it. The hustle and bustle of the afternoon. Homework, chauffeuring to sports, dinner, baths, cleaning up, all while dreaming of that moment when we get to finally lie down in bed. Sometimes the crowning moment of the day. We go about our evening as Mary Poppins, then we quickly turn into Mommy Dearest about 8:30, when we have just had ENOUGH! GO TO BED! I’m DONE WITH THIS DAY and daggers start flying out of our eyes hitting the little people who, at my house, look and act like the laughing hyenas from the Lion King, RIGHT at bed time. My patience is shot, my eyes are bulging, kiss, hug, kiss, hug, kiss, hug, kiss, hug (I’ve got 4 kids). GOODNIGHT TO ALL, I scream, as I run down the stairs to my bed. Some nights, it can’t come fast enough.
Within 20 minutes, my husband is snoring and off to dreamland till his alarm wakes him in the morning. I lie down and read, till my eyes can’t stay open any longer, then I shut it down. I am so tired but I start to think …
A Mother’s Imagination …
My hip has hurt for so long. What if it’s not sciatica or motherhood like I chalk it up to be? What if it’s the dreaded C word? What if I am ignoring cancer just growing in my body because as a Mom, I tend to take care of everyone else and not myself. If I go to the doctor, what will they find? If it’s cancer, I don’t have time for that. What mother does? Who will pick up my children from school when I’m too sick to do it? How will my kids handle the news? I go further and think … what if I die? I am their world. I picture each of my children and their world ending. How their personalities would change. I went from who will pick them up from school to picturing my motherless children. I cry. I lay there in the bed, perfectly healthy with tears in my eyes and a burden on my chest, my imagination, writing out one of my worst nightmares. In the still of the night, and the ticking of the clock, this is what I do to myself. I take a deep breath and shake myself out of it.
Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts. Give it to God…
So I say a little prayer and I start wondering what God thinks of me. We don’t go to church regularly like we should. My children go to a Christian school and go to chapel 5 days a week. We are a Christian household, and we say our prayers. My children have a strong Christian faith, but not attending church regularly, I feel has been a downfall as a parent. I remember the day that I turned around and looked back in the car and saw tears in my daughter’s eyes. I asked her what was wrong and she whispered, “What if God doesn’t hear me when I pray?” I lay there with tears welling up again, vowing to do better. I also lay there thinking about how now it’s almost 11:00pm and maybe I should try counting sheep. 
One sheep, two sheep, three sheep…
How do people find this relaxing? I lay there thinking about trying not to think. I have to concentrate so hard on those damn sheep and my mind starts to wander … I think about how tired I am going to be the next day if I don’t go to sleep and if I’m overly tired, I get weepy. I have to be at 7:30 chapel in the morning, where one of my children is getting a special award for kindness and I don’t want to be weepy. I want to be strong. I think about how kind she really is and how I know her heart and how proud I am of her … but my mind wanders into worries. A few weeks ago, a classmate told her that she overheard two boy classmates whispering about her and they said that my daughter was so pale that she looked like a possessed zombie everyday. That hurt her … which means it hurt me. I think about my beautiful, fair skinned, blue eyed 11 year old trying to put blush on her cheeks before school now and staring into the mirror fixated on her paleness. I fear that from now on, she won’t like her fair skin. Words hurt.
I realize it is now midnight and I may have fallen asleep, but I’m not sure…
My alarm goes off at 6am. I crawl out of bed and put my robe on. I tell my husband good morning and go up to wake the children. Mary Poppins is back and sings, in a singsong voice, “Rise and shine! It’s a beautiful day!” as I rub their backs and switch on lights. My worries from the night before forgotten and my mom cape is back on.
