It's 4:00 in the morning, a Saturday morning, and I can't sleep. I was looking forward all week to the opportunity I would have to sleep in and here I am writing in my journal. There is something mysteriously awry with being awake this early; it's kind of eerie how quiet the house is. When I first woke, I went into the kitchen and poured myself a drink. I peered out my kitchen window into the black night. No other house lights were illuminated. I guess this is a one-woman party.
I drank my eight ounces of cherry flavored Crystal Light and went back to bed. I thought it was too early to work-out and too early to begin my daily chores. So I lay in bed for a few minutes thinking I might drift off into the land of sweet dreams. Of course, once my eyes are open, my brain finds out and starts composing mental lists of daily priorities and also rehashes anxiety surrounding any stressor I have been dealing with over the past week. I really just wanted to sleep; sometimes I think my colon might rupture if I actually did nothing for five minutes when I know I should be multi-tasking during those same five minutes. Did I mention I am tightly wound? If you have ever met me in person, I imagine your first thought was,
that girl could use a Prozac.So, here I am sitting in my newly styled formal living room. I painted this room in November when my husband decided to move his office into the basement. I really like how the colors turned out. I also wonder why I never sit in this room. The walls are two-toned; a light sand on the upper half and a Mediterranean blue on the lower. I have dubbed this room my Mediterranean room as I thought it would be a little escape if I ever needed it. The problem with that thinking is that there are no locks on the double doors. The only place I can escape to is the bathroom and I can't even do that without my children or husband needing something the second I sit upon my throne. As I am looking around at the decor in this room, I can see that it is lacking. It is difficult to bring the outside in, yet I am absolutely in adoration of the print that has become the focal point of the room. I often wish I could transport myself into its beautiful landscape. The waters look so inviting.
My record player is housed in this room. I moved it in here for the Christmas dinner I hosted so I could add to the ambiance of the holidays. I have always enjoyed music playing softly in the background while I eat a special meal. Plus, that's how they do it in the movies. Christmas dinners in the movies are always so eloquent. I haven't figured out how to be that eloquent yet.
I dug out a record that my husband had gifted me several years ago. He had been at Desert Industries (local second-hand thrift store) and purchased some albums he thought I might enjoy. This morning's selection is Dan Fogelberg's
Windows and Walls. I haven't heard this one before. I absolutely adore Dan Fogelberg (70s music is my fave), yet this album is kinda weird. Now we know why it was at D.I.
My stomach is violently protesting the early morning wake-up call. I can barely hear the music over the growling and gurgling. This can't be a good sign.
While I was laying in bed trying to trick myself into thinking sleep was an option, I had two funny thoughts. One was about Relief Society; the other was about Xavier.
Our ward's Relief Society lesson last Sunday was a review of a conference address given in October. The Relief Society president delivered the lesson; she did a fabulous job. She is a humble person and a school teacher by trade. I should learn to be more like her. Anyway, the lesson was on discipleship and how we can learn to become more like Christ. The bulk of the lesson I can't fully recall at the moment, but there is one thing she said that shocked and, of course, lit my gizzard on fire. She said (and I imagine she was quoting the author of the talk) that we should not get caught up in the details of the gospel and just learn to love people more. We should not be so concerned with the letter of the law and be a little more concerned with the spirit of the law. Say what?! This is one of those moments when I have to consciously think about breathing. Not get caught up in the details? Doesn't she know that is what my life's mission is? I was sent here to break down the rules for everyone, even into minute detail, so there would be absolutely no question what the rules are. Rules are important; I live and die by them. If I have to ease my white-knuckled grip upon them, what will happen? I'm not good with compassion; this kind of thinking throws a wrench into everything! What will I do with all my plans? What will happen to the rules? Who will protect and enforce them? Who will be the self-appointed morality police? It is my most favorite job in the whole world! (Deep breath) Okay, I will be taking that Prozac now.
My second pondering, which happens to be a little less neurotic, is how I am madly and completely in love with Xavier. Now that he is almost two and a half, his personality is in full swing. He carries traits of both his father and me, and I think it a fun game to figure out if his tendencies and preferences are learned or genetic in nature.
Traits that resemble his father:
1. He hates socks and shoes.
2. He enjoys a pre-bedtime popcorn snack.
3. He is not a morning person. Upon waking, he has to lay in bed for a long time before he can function outside of the comforter's protection.
4. He is stubborn. He won't go to bed unless he thinks Daddy is going to bed.
5. He thinks Daddy is the only one who can feed, bathe, and dress him.
6. He is the most finicky eater...definitely a daddy trait.
7. He makes grunting noises when playing with trucks.
8. He is bossy and sassy. (I'll admit he probably gets that from the both of us.)
9. He refuses to wear coats.
10. He likes kissing girls.
11. He is an awesome helper!
Traits that resemble me:
1. He is a little OCD. He likes everything to be in order. He lines his trucks and cars in perfect symmetrical rows. He also insists on bringing in each bag of groceries from the car and emptying them himself. He then lines all the items in neat little formations on the floor. He screams if you touch the items before he is finished with them. Trying to get the freezer food away from him is a intriguing game of intellect and chance.
2. He dislikes dirty hands.
3. He is selective in his clothing attire.
4. He loves Scooby-Doo.
5. He is a peacemaker.
6. He enjoys a good nap.
7. He has a sensitive gag reflex.
8. He is very independent.
9. He runs in circles until he hits a wall.
10. He screams with mommy when Peyton Manning scores a touchdown.
11. He will do ANYTHING for chocolate!
So, there you have it. Erika's mindless ramblings in the wee hours of the morning. Makes you wish you were up at 4 a.m. too, doesn't it? ;)
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