I can’t sleep tonight. My husband, a Den Leader for my son’s Cub Scout Troop, is out at Burke Lake on a campout with our two sons. My daughter is asleep and I am approximately 393,234 sheep from sleep. Here are a list of things keeping me from sleeping tonight:
1. Is the new air mattress comfortable?
2. Are the boys too cold?
3. Did Travis take his meds? Did I?
4. Will Ben’s scar go away soon? Damn. We forgot to put on the scar-reducing lotion. I need to buy some Vitamin E from Freshfields.
5. Did I really shut the garage door? Would it be neurotic to check it for the third time? If I went and checked it, I could get the clothes out of the dryer but I can’t find the brown laundry basket and the white one is full of clean laundry.
6. Will my headache ever go away? I think I gave myself a mild concussion when I knocked the contents of the top shelf of Ben’s bookcase on my head. I cradled my head in my hands, sunk to the floor, and called for a medic, or the chief medical officer of our household. That’s the Cup Scout leader of course. I’m so grateful it was only a passing head wound. I lay there on the floor thinking about all the doctors and nurses who have taken care of me in the past. They comforted me each time and promised me I’d be okay, and I was. I could tell from their faces that they’d seen far worse injuries than mine.
7. Is lip balm addictive? What if it is found to cause cancer, like saccharine? Oh crap. How many bottles of diet coke have I had over the years? How about regular soda? Coke is usually too sweet, but I love Slurpees, especially with Coke mixed with Cherry and that blue stuff. How many calories does a regular sized Slurpee have? And why do they have to make them with Aspartame in the lemon-lime flavor?
8. What if the anti-diarrheal tablets are expired and I get diarrhea? That makes me giggle.
9. It’s so quiet I can hear my heartbeat. My resting heart rate should be 60 BPM or lower but I’m not resting. I should check it right now but if it’s above 60 BPM, I’ll stay up all night wondering if I’m going to get a panic attack. If I get a panic attack, I’ll have to call Travis on his cell phone and what if his cell phone is out of batteries? Will that mean he doesn’t love me enough to keep batteries operational? Crap. Did he replace the batteries in the black flashlight?
10. Did the boys brush their teeth?
11. It’s too quiet. Why are the frogs gone? I miss the frogs and they won’t be back until spring. In spring, the pollen returns and Maddie is allergic to pollen. Remember when she had to take Xopenex 3-4 times a day for months at a time? Or the time she had to stay on the Nebulizer for the entire winter after I took the kids out in the rain in December and all three of them got pneumonia . . . man was I scared. And I was secretly convinced thay it was my fault they all caught pneumonia. That had to have been my fault, right?
12. How far away is Florida from Seattle? Baltimore is what, 2,700 miles from Seattle? Remember when they showed the flight plan in Harry Met Sally? And can men and women really not be” just” friends? What’s my friend Sam doing right now? I should text her. It’s only 9:30 in Seattle.
13. The Marine Corps Marathon is in seven days and seven hours. This time next week I’ll really be freaking out. Damn. My heart just sped up.
I should stop at 13. Wait. I’m supposed to write out “thirteen.” Speaking of number thirteen, I refuse to believe in silly superstitions. So does my Maddie. Obdurate and strong, she wears the number thirteen. That is one of the many things I like about her.
She and I watched A League of Their Own Tonight. It’s the first time she’s seen it, and the fourth time I’ve seen it. I still cried at the end, and after it was over, we talked about it. She wanted to know my story.
I grew up as a serious ballplayer . . . but tonight was the first time I could really explain it to my daughter. We talked some, and then she hugged me and gasped, “Wow–so that’s the sport you grew up playing?
“Yep. I won championships. I was a pitcher, like Kit.”
Madeline stared at me, a little breathless. “You were?”
I grinned. “Come on Maddie. How many moms throw like I do?”
With her arms wrapped around my neck, she replied, “None. You throw like Dottie.”
I nodded. “And I can teach you how to throw like that too.”
Goodnight friends. It’s one a.m. here in Northern Virginia. I’m not going to bed yet. But I hope you are sleeping in the arms of the person you love most.
And if you’re in the mood to chat, please tell me some of the things that keep you up at night.