In honor of Thanksgiving approaching, my next several blogs will focus on things that make me happy or illicit gratitude.
I am grateful for a good night’s sleep.
I got one once. I remember it was a Saturday. Miraculously no one peed the bed, had a bad dream, spent half the night coughing, or cried incessantly because they wanted to eat at four in the morning. I woke up feeling like a new woman… you know, normal! My smiles came a little easier that day, and my patience didn’t feel so forced.
It seems in the life of a baby it is two steps forward... four steps back when it comes to sleep. Once we start making progress, something always happens: daylight savings, a cold, teething…the list seems endless. I have even had fantasies of going to a hotel just to be able to sleep for eight hours in a row.
When I start to see double or have to wear sunglasses to cover my red-eye, I remember that this is only temporary. All of my older kids eventually sleep through the night most nights. If I ever feel tempted to fast-forward through this chapter of life, I am reminded of Erma Bombeck’s, “No More Oatmeal Kisses”.
Erma Bombeck is one of my best friends. I never actually met her, but she has encouraged me and helped me appreciate the humor in many of my mothering moments. If you haven’t read any of her work, I highly recommend, “Forever Erma”. I laughed, I cried, I cherished.
It seems in the life of a baby it is two steps forward... four steps back when it comes to sleep. Once we start making progress, something always happens: daylight savings, a cold, teething…the list seems endless. I have even had fantasies of going to a hotel just to be able to sleep for eight hours in a row.
When I start to see double or have to wear sunglasses to cover my red-eye, I remember that this is only temporary. All of my older kids eventually sleep through the night most nights. If I ever feel tempted to fast-forward through this chapter of life, I am reminded of Erma Bombeck’s, “No More Oatmeal Kisses”.
Erma Bombeck is one of my best friends. I never actually met her, but she has encouraged me and helped me appreciate the humor in many of my mothering moments. If you haven’t read any of her work, I highly recommend, “Forever Erma”. I laughed, I cried, I cherished.
No More Oatmeal Kisses
One of these days you'll shout,
"Why don't you kids grow up and act your age!"
And they will.
Or, "You guys get outside and find yourselves something
to do...and don't slam the door!"
And they won't.
You'll straighten up the boys' bedroom neat and tidy:
bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth,
toys displayed on their shelves. Hangers in the closet.
Animals caged. And you'll say out loud, "Now I want it
to stay this way."
And it will.
You'll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad
that hasn't been picked to death and a cake
with no finger traces in the icing and you'll say,
Now there's a meal for company."
And you'll eat it alone.
You'll say, "I want complete privacy on the phone.
No dancing around. No demolition crews. Silence!
Do you hear?"
And you'll have it.
No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti.
No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms.
No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps.
No more clothespins under the sofa.
No more playpens to arrange a room around.
No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent.
No more sand in the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathroom.
No more iron-on patches, rubber bands for ponytails,
tight boots or wet knotted shoestrings.
Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it.
No baby-sitter for New Year's Eve.
Washing only once a week.
Seeing a steak that isn't ground.
Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.
No PTA meetings.
No car pools.
No blaring radios.
No one washing her hair at 11 o'clock at night.
Having your own roll of Scotch tape.
Think about it.
No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste.
No more sloppy oatmeal kisses.
No more tooth fairy.
No giggles in the dark.
No knees to heal, no responsibility.
Only a voice crying, "Why don't you grow up?"
and the silence echoing,
"I did."
Erma Bombeck
And so this day, I am thankful for this hectic, crazy, full, sweet chapter of life. And I'm grateful for Erma Bombeck.
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