Sleepus Interruptus

I'm getting really tired of this.
::snork::: get it?
TIRED of this? HA HA HA HA!!

For the last couple months or so, at least once a week, I wake up very early. I feel myself starting to surface and try really hard to keep it from happening, but it doesn't always work.

Today it was 3:40. I tried to tell myself that I didn't have to pee (yeah, right. I'm 46 years old and female. I always have to pee.) About 4:00, I got up. Left the flashlight next to the bed. Sometimes if I get up and don't turn it on, my brain is tricked into thinking it's still sleeping and I can drift off again after I get back in bed. I have a clear red plastic disc I sometimes use to cover the lens of the flashlight. It seems to tone down the brightness a bit. Today I chose no light at all.

So I went to the bathroom, washed my hands (and once again the damn soap dispenser is squirting out lots of air and very little soap because I AM THE ONLY PERSON IN THE UNIVERSE WHO KNOWS HOW TO FILL IT!!!) and went back to bed.

Then, my brain started up.
::sigh::

Regular Mom has a category on her blog, "Stuff I think about when I should be sleeping." I like that. It popped into my head this morning while I was supposed to be asleep. To my rueful amusement.

I've lived with myself a long time, so the thoughts that may appear disconnected to you make perfect sense to me. (Not really, but I want you to believe I'm sane.)

Let's see.

Jeannie Wade. She was Student Body secretary at the school I attended (Butthump, Oregon) 1973. I remembered our 8th grade trip. She got the giggles while hanging out with her friends, and wet her pants. Then, she went around asking everyone if she could borrow their jacket to tie around her waist. Fortunately, I didn't have mine with me.
Jeannie had a cat that had lived through 10 minutes in the clothes dryer, (It must have been on the cool cycle...at least I hope it was, and I'm betting there was cat shit all over the inside of the dryer, too.)
I ran against Jeannie for 7th grade class representative and won, making me think I could run and win the secretary position in 8th grade. Nope. Her skit was funnier.

Photography. I have been wishing for a better digital camera. I had been saving a bit here and there for it, but then I got the troop pictures back from Snapfish. They're terrific. I don't want a big-assed camera to haul around anyway. The small one I have is easy to tuck into a purse or backpack, and does fine. I actually OWN a big camera, but it's a film camera. Takes great pictures, but it's, well, big.

Work. The other staff members I work with are nice enough people, and they think they like kids. Maybe they even do. I don't know. But it bothers me that they find it necessary to demonstrate control over the kids so much. No, they can't just sprawl on the beanbag chairs. They must SIT UP. No, they can't just line up to wash their hands. They must be QUIET in line. Why? The school is empty! Who the hell are they going to disturb?

When I leave a little after five, it's reading/quiet time. The staff member who closes is reading to them from one of the Ramona books. They're not allowed to work on their gimp keychains or do friendship bracelets or MOVE. They must sit. "One, two, three, eyes on me." I always feel like I should apologize to them for leaving, since as soon as I do, that's what happens.

Laundry. I realized again yesterday that I STILL don't have room to put it all away when it's clean. Partly because there are things other than clothing in quite a few of my drawers. Partly because it's hard for me to get rid of clothing, a reaction I think to having very little of it as an adolescent/young teen. So I have things I bought that I don't wear. I'd feel more guilty about this if I shopped at expensive stores, but I buy 99.9% of my clothes at Goodwill.

Lyssa's braces. The oral surgery went okay, I mean she survived it and the weird drug fog afterward, but it's not working. Instead of pulling the tooth up, it's making the others on that side recede. This *has* to slow her progress, no? Not to mention causing her quite a bit of discomfort. I totally hate this. Our dentist is trying to get the tooth started by making her wear rubber bands, but it doesn't seem to be helping at all. I'm going to call him today and tell him I don't want to wait until her appointment in three weeks to re-evaluate the situation. I'd really rather get the problem taken care of. The poor kid is going through all kinds of shit.

I'm fat. I don't need a euphemism or a cute way to say it. I can admit it. I can even tell you that I don't eat right, I eat too much and too often and don't exercise enough. Admitting it is actually the easy part. The hard part is changing it. I've made good efforts before, and done okay, but it's never permanent.

Last week, I had Thursday off. Thursday is game day, an activity that Lyssa usually attends without me, since I'm almost always at work when it occurs.

The hosting family is like her second family, and she is welcome to come early and stay late most times, meaning that she doesn't have to skip the activity because of my job. (Another thing I hate. I hate, hate, hate that she has to miss out on some opportunities because I am at work.) I got to go with her Thursday, which I liked. I am not big on games, although I play some. It's fun for me to observe and to hang out with other homeschooling moms, since it's really not the children who need the social activities, it's the PARENTS.

Game day works like this. For an hour or so, the group plays board games, or other indoor games. Then, they all put on their shoes and walk to a nearby park to play outdoor stuff, like capture the flag, steal the bacon... you know, running games.

I don't participate. First of all, if I crash into someone, I will kill them. Remember the joke? You know you're fat if you step on your dog's tail and it dies.
I have huge bazooms. This is NOT an asset. It's not fun to run, trust me.
It's not my THING to play games in the park, either. Unless it's frisbee or tossing a ball. Not likely to hurt myself or someone else that way.

So I stood there, watching, enjoying. During a lull, when everyone came to get a drink from their bottles near my tree, my daughter said to me (loudly, in front of everyone), "Why did you come anyway?? You're just standing there!"
I was so embarrassed.
Would a nice person answer, "Well, because I am a great, fat, hog and I am afraid I'll kill someone if I fall on them?"

So I took her aside and told her. Then she felt bad. Great. It wasn't enough that I felt bad. Nope. Had to share it. I'm a shitty mother sometimes. (pausing for my daily dose of Motherguilt). First, I let her down because I am too big to play, then made her feel bad for pointing it out. In my defense, I did talk with her later and explain that some things were meant to be discussed privately.

The Dog. The dog is old. She leaks a bit sometimes. She's arthritic.
I didn't WANT a dog. Eric and I had a dog when we were newlyweds, and we had him five years. He was like a kid. And when we lost him, I said, "NO MORE DOGS."

We've had Maggie 10.5 years. My heart is sad already because I know we won't have her forever, but it's worse because I can see the day coming.

Underneath all these thoughts was music. I picked up a CD at Goodwill last week, and it was playing in my head.

I got up at 4:50. Gave up on sleep.

Maybe tonight.