I couldn't sleep last night. Well, that's not entirely true. I think I did manage to gain some fitful sleep for a few hours, but it was one of those nights where the alarm clock becomes your worst enemy and object of worry as you watch the sleepless minutes tick away into precious time lost that you know will be biting you in the bodunkadunk the next day as you try so desperately to not eat your children. What? Don't all mothers eat their children when they are in rotten moods? Please tell me I'm not the only one.
Realizing that my feet were freezing and not wanting to get out of bed in search of socks, lest I wake even more and lose even more sacred snooze time, I tried desperately to play the little game of "try to stick the ice cubed toes under your husband". Its an art, that game...one that requires total strategy of trying to warm up the feet while keeping the husband asleep. I think my longest time was about 3 seconds max of full foot coverage under one of his toasty legs before he would stir and grumble, at which time I would instantly pretend I had been asleep all along by grumbling something equally incoherent back into his general direction. I'd give it a couple more minutes before trying again. Repetition and refining of the skills paid off, and it was no time that the tootsies were no longer frost-bitten. But it did nothing for my insomnia.
Jay and I have been planning a vacation for just the two of us for...well...as long as we have been married. We set aside money each month in those first few years when he was in grad school and I was working and we was po'. We were going to Jamaica! And then we had good friends get married in a distant state...and then other good friends get married in a distant state, and the Jamaica fund started fresh once again. And then there were kids...and diapers and formula and ear infections and runny noses. And a house. And a van. And a new air conditioner and hot water heater and dishwasher and furniture and carpet. And hospital stays and medical bills. Have you ever seen the Disney movie "Up"?
So after giving her a crash course in everything medical that could almost gain her a full-time nursing degree, my mother agreed to come and stay with the kids for the week that Jay and I will be basking in the Hawaiian sun. She should get some sort of medal or something. Or have a psychiatric exam. I'm thinking the latter.
We'll be leaving in t-minus 17 days. And I have exactly that much time to tone these flabby arms and perfect my hula...and find a coconut bra. Or get a psychiatric exam. I'm thinking the latter.