nighttime

I've had insomnia since I was about 8 years old. I remember many nights as a youth going downstairs and watching television all night long, or laying in bed checking the clock every few hours, only to find that 10 minutes had passed.

I've learned over the years to appreciate this little quirk in my physiology. Nighttime has a music all its' own. Coyotes don't talk to each other during daylight hours. My dog chases cats in his sleep and my husband worries about things at work a lot more than he lets on. I know because he talks about them all night. I get to hear the aspen trees whispering and I doubt there are many who have seen as many falling stars as I have. Rain smells different at 3 a.m. than it does in the afternoon. My neighborhood moves to a completely different rhythm at night.

With four children, three of whom are teenagers, the middle of the night is one of the few times it's completely peaceful at my house. I've done a lot of my best thinking and brainstorming at two in the morning and treasure the conversations I've had with my Heavenly Father when my brain is too full to sleep. And there's not one Harry Potter book I've finished during daylight hours... Not to mention my girls are always home on time because they never know if it's a night I'll be up. Sneaking out? It's not worth the chance of getting busted.

Don't get me wrong, I do sleep. But those nights when I know it's not going to happen it's no big deal anymore. That's what naps are for.

summertime

I love summertime. I grew up on a cul-de-sac of 12 houses. We would head out right after breakfast and roam the neighboorhood until at least dinnertime. We'd ride our bikes, go crawdad hunting, play football, organize our own olympics, spend days at the pool, and our parents didn't worry if it was a few hours between check ins. We'd pick a different house every day for lunch, depending on who had what in their refrigerator (ok, Chad has hot dogs, Ger has peanut butter sandwiches, all I've got is spagettios) and me being the only girl in the bunch wasn't a big deal to anyone. In fact, I always won Kill The Guy With The Ball.

I feel bad sometimes for kids now because they don't get to grow up with that kind of a carefree life. Between art camp, baseball practice, dance classes, golf lessons, swimteam practice, gymnastics and every other very worthwhile activity, there's not much time left to just play. And heaven forbid I ask my son to turn off the video games and go out and ride his bike. It seems sometimes imagination is a lost art. Not to mention if my kids don't check in at least every 30 minutes I'm ready to call the police. And have to seen the cartoons lately? Ok, I'm an admitted Spongebob Squarepants junky, but what happened to Speed Buggy and Grape Ape and Bugs Bunny?

I do agree that children today have definite advantages, and they need those advantages to succeed in the world that will be theirs' as adults. But I often think those advantages come with a pretty high price tag, when I see a six year old walking down the street talking on a cell phone, or when a stick is just a stick - instead of a sword.

musings on graduation

So, my oldest daughter just graduated high school and suddenly I'm left feeling...mmm...lost. We're entering uncharted territory here in a part of life I didn't ever really think I'd reach. Suddenly my little pig-tailed girl has sprouted wings and is preparing to fly and I don't know whether to be thankful she's a strong-spirited young lady who is ready to take on the world or pull her onto my lap so we can watch Sesame Street and Barney and eat Cheerios together. I certainly don't feel 18 years older so I'm wondering how this possibly could have happened. How did I miss the last 18 years? I remember when my kids were younger and "old" people would say, "Enjoy them now because they'll be grown up before you know it!" and all I could do was smile half-heartedly while I had one by the hand, one screaming on the floor in the throes of a herculean temper tantrum, one climbing up my leg saying "Mama! Mama! Mama!", and a baby in the stroller exercising his lungs. Enjoy it? I felt lucky to be surviving it! I did survive it, but I certainly didn't enjoy it enough. I spent time wondering when life was going to start and sometimes missed living it. I miss the park, bedtime stories on the couch, princess movies, dressed up tea parties, bathtime...ok, maybe I don't miss Barbie and all her accompanying splendor, but so many little moments I took for granted. More patience, more playtime, more cookies, more laughter - more time please.