I was going to post a truly spectacular example of navel-gazing today, but keeping that last post up there for a full week has taken it's toll on my nails and I no longer have the flexibility required to pull my toenails up to a chewable position. Which, although eww, would be the sad, sad position I would find myself in should I post something introspective-ish now. Instead I'm going to play along with the latest and greatest from Jen that I found via Lora.
since I would pick up a flaming bag of poo and rub it on my face if Lora said she had and she posted a list entirely devoted to the warm and/or fuzzy, I will attempt to dilute the crazy down so that you will still feel comfortable making eye contact with me should you ever happen to pass me on the street. All this while balancing a now-cold cup of coffee, 4 conversation hearts, and an over-ripe banana on the tip of my nose.* Ta-Da!
What keeps me up at night, curled into a fetal position:
- The last conversation/encounter I had with anyone who I have a high regard for. I will go over and over and over and over every single word/action and pick out all the parts where I made an ass out of myself and then wonder if the other person is ever going to talk to me again.
- Not being involved enough with my kid. Sure, I'm here with him every day, but there's a lot of time that I'm not really here with him.
- Being too involved with my kid. Not letting him explore and experience on his own because I'm afraid he'll come up against something he can't handle and feel abandoned.
- That there are people out there who don't think I'm a wonderful, loving, generous person.
- That boy.
- That I'm not making a real difference in the world.
- That even if I were to rejoin the work-force, I wouldn't be strong/smart/quick enough to make a difference in the world.
- That I will be oblivious to the opportunity to be a part of real change when it comes my way.
- That I won't notice and be ready to nurture my son's talent(s) because I can't seem to step back and see the big picture where he is concerned.
- Peeing my pants in the middle of the classroom in first grade. Apparently being a "rule follower" was one of my neuroses even then -- when Miss Funk said "...and you may not leave your seats..." I stayed put.
What keeps me up at night, smiling conspiratorially at the ceiling:
- "Mommy, let's sit down and talk a conbersation afore you tell me 'no'." (Or whatever negotiation strategy he is utilizing that day...)
- That when I said "I know you're not serious because you wouldn't propose with a cat in the room." he got up off of one knee and chased the cat out of the room.
- His grandmother's ring.
- Rain on the roof.
- The stuffed Pepe LePew on my bedside table. The note said, "I know we don't generally do anything for Valentines day, but I couldn't resist."
- Friends who call/email/write out of the blue just because it's been a while.
- Knowing that just before the sun peeks through, I'll hear "Mommy, I want to sleep with you." And then he'll crawl up beside me, snuggling in right under my chin.
- The memory of trying to figure out European shoe sizes in Chinon -- the joy on the shopkeeper's face when we finally figured out a system for communicating (that didn't involve frantically flipping through our miniscule French phrase book) mirrored my own. The shoes? Not fashionable by any stretch of the imagination, but the memory alone makes them priceless.
- The promise of home-made French toast.
*To be fair, mine is a rather flat nose.