There is this commercial on TV that I’ve seen no less than 1.6 million times on Food Network (just about the only thing I watch) about this lady who has a cold, and because she has asthma, she goes to see her doctor. The receptionist doing her scheduling notices that the lady is due for a mammogram and so just happens to be able to schedule her for one that very afternoon (right then is when one needs to suspend reality because we all know you can’t get a mammogram appointment twenty minutes hence, but I will go with this). The mammogram shows a tumor that the doctors are able to remove and the woman’s life is saved. It really is a great commercial and although the sequence of events seems fantastical, I still love a good ending.
I’m fast asleep, well, for me that means tossing and turning as I fight with some dream in my head. This time it was an argument with myself about which way to sleep, so I was literally tossing and turning, but hey, for me … I was asleep (sort of), when I heard that kind of cry from a kid that makes you instantly awake. The “I’m throwing up” kind of cry or “things are really, really bad” kind of cry. You know the one, you go from zero to sixty in a matter of milliseconds and the cobwebs of (almost) sleep are swept away as quickly as yesterday’s news. I stopped wrestling with my covers and pillows and had two feet on the carpet in seconds flat, stumbling and bumbling through the dark toward the source of the cry which I knew instinctively was Mary. I found her at the threshold of the bathroom, crying, standing in a puddle of pee, panties around her knees as she tried desperately to get to the potty.
She was hampered however by three things: One, being her full-arm cast (which comes off Monday, hallelujah!) and prevents her from bending her arm or extending her arm; she can’t even reach her mouth with a fork. Two, it was pitch black, but either by the glow of a nightlight through the crack of the door jamb or by her own night vision, she had at least made it past the carpet (again, hallelujah!). Three, although she is potty trained and has been for the better part of a year, she has never (until tonight, that is) attempted to sleep an entire night without a pull-up nappy. In fact, when I was helping her get ready for bed, she had a nappy, so the sleep-in-panties decision had been made on her own after I fell asleep. It must have been a deliberate decision because although she can dress herself with the cast, it takes about ten times longer, and she has to really take her time. In fact, she was mumbling through this whole scene how she wanted to sleep in panties.
I answered her cries for help, dried her tears, dried and cleaned the floor, and explained that we should wait until after the cast comes off and she can better maneuver her own wardrobe before she tries to sleep sans nappy. She agreed (no, really, she did), and I put her back to bed. It was at that point that she felt overly warm to me, but I went back to sleep, thinking, “She’s fine.” Of course I got back into the tosser-torture chamber, err … bed, and lay there … thinking. This has always been my downfall in the middle of the night, my brain. Once awake, it doesn’t shut off again easily. I knew exactly where the thermometer was because I’d had it out checking my own temperature just yesterday and so, throwing the sheets and blankets aside once again, went downstairs to get it, and back upstairs to take Mary’s temp.
Normal, in both ears.
She assured me she didn’t feel bad. So her flushed cheeks were just the result of a snug bed and happy dreams.
Then I needed to fix Lizzie however, who was caddy-whompus in the bed, and I ended up waking her up, but she wanted water and the potty too, so all was well. So, long story short, I’m back in bed and my brain is writing this post. I’m thinking of words and phrases and clever idioms to share with you all and I’m wondering if I should just jot it down really fast because what if I don’t remember it in the morning (been there!), or what if I don’t have time tomorrow? At this point, I need to insert that we have our third day of the swim meet today (its Sunday as I type this, so … today) and Abby has 7am warmups. I’m working on borrowed time here, so I either have to get up and write this out or I stay in bed and think about it.
Here I am. Writing at one in the morning and wondering what the point of all of the above is. I think it has to do with life and how the books If You Give a Mouse a Cookie are so very pertinent. One thing leads to another leads to another. Much of this can be put on our own shoulders as happenstance, but I think a greater amount of it has to do with God’s plan for our lives. I like to think of God sitting in front of a humongous chessboard making moves for us, and clearing paths or creating obstacles, according to His plan and His will. Of course we always have choices and therein is the greatest potential to screw things up, but if we stop and listen and discern … maybe we can fulfill our destinies, whatever those destinies may be. Of course, we can always still just screw up. Sometimes though, we have to walk blindly by faith and hope, sometimes we know right off what to do, or sometimes, we have no idea why or how we are being pushed in a certain direction, but we need to listen and accept. And DO.
I leave you with an example:
As I was tossing and turning, both physically in the bed (poor Forrest! good thing he took those “for better or worse” vows – my sleeping is definitely categorized as “worse”) and mentally with phrasing and nouns and verbs, I decided not to fight the wave. I’ll roll with the tide and get up and write on the blog because when I do, I’ll be able to go back to sleep for the three hours until I need to get up to go coach this swim meet. I come downstairs, turn on the light, scratch Dobby the Cat’s ears (he’s asleep on the couch) and settle with my computer and blanket. No sooner do I get the first paragraph out before I hear scratching. Winky the Baby Cat has been left out on the screen porch by her ambivalent owners. I turn off the alarm, let the poor creature in and realize why all this has happened in the first place.
Now, I am snuggled with two cats, my blog post is written, and I am sleepy once again.
Listen to your nudges, they will direct your life in big ways and small ways but are almost always there for a good reason.