The Mind On Not Enough Sleep Journeys Into Shallow Pools Of Nothingness

I have to stop getting up in the middle of the night. It would be fine if I didn't eat half a bag of Chex Mix at one a.m. I don't even like Chex Mix unless it's the kind that Billy makes. There is no excuse for eating half a bag of Chex Mix because it's not my food.

A lot of foods are not my food, although sometimes I wish they were. Like the other morning after Lily and Jason's ultrasound appointment and I was hungry and wishing I was one of the people who could just cheerfully drive through a fast-food joint and say, "One bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit, please."
Not only are bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits delicious, they save you so much time and money because one of those bad boys and you've had all the fat and calories you need for at least a day.

Maybe a day and a half.
Sigh.
But I'm not.

And Chex Mix is not my food either so why am I eating it at one a.m.?
Yeah. You tell me.

I'm just sitting there waiting for the aspirin to kick in, so tired I can barely understand what I'm reading, eating Chex Mix out of the bag thinking, I don't like this Chex Mix. Why am I eating it?
Well, at least I'm not nursing a tumbler full of vodka, I guess. As if that makes it any better.

We leave for Mexico in two weeks. TWO WEEKS FROM TODAY!

Am I ready? No.

I did go buy new underwear yesterday. For everyone's information my underwear is the Jockey cotton string bikini. It's cotton. Those panties last forever. They are comfortable. Why would I wear anything else? I wore them when I was pregnant because they fit right under the tummy area. Plus, they were cotton. Did I mention they were cotton?

I have about fifteen skirts to take. They're lovely skirts. Many of them are cotton. Some of them are linen. I wear fabrics for the absorbancy factor. Doesn't everyone? They do if they have about fifty hotflashes a day.

Jessie leaves tomorrow for Jamaica where she's going to work in a very rural clinic. I keep asking her questions like "Will there be air-conditioning where you sleep?" She doesn't think so. She thinks the "running water" may be a creek.

Oh boy.

She's here right now, still asleep up in her bedroom. I sort of wish she'd stay there forever. I can understand Rapunzel's parents keeping her locked up in her tower bedroom. I used to love that story. Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair. If I kept Jessie locked up, she would just smile sweetly and then, when I wasn't looking, she'd throw her long legs over the window sill and climb down, arm over strong arm, then come in the kitchen and offer to wash the dishes. She's that kind of girl. You can't keep these kids locked up in their towers anymore. I swear, no matter how hard you try, you just can't.

This time last year Jason and Lily AND Jessie were all moving out of the house where they'd all been living for a while. It shocked me into craziness. I WANTED them to all move out, have lives of their own. My better-mommy self did. But my lizard mommy wanted them all right here, safe and sound where thunderstorms couldn't hurt them and I could feed them and I could touch them whenever I wanted to. The perfect flesh of my children I could take into my arms and hold.

The first time I ever went to Mexico Lily was two weeks shy of being two. I had never left a child of that age before, even for two nights in a row. And I was about to go off for a week to a foreign country! Lily kept putting her toothbrush in my suitcase. And when we left, I felt so guilty to be leaving her and her sister and brother, even though they were staying in the care of my in-laws, the most loving, sweet people in the world. Lily was crying and then her Paw-Paw said, "Come on Lily. We'll go buy ice cream."

"Okay," she said. "Bye, Mama."

And that was that.

This time I'm leaving her thirty-two weeks pregnant. Jason can buy her ice cream, I suppose.

Oh well. As you can see, my mind is all too tangled up by sleeplessness to write anything decent. What I am saying here? Nothing. I eat Chex Mix in the middle of the night. I need to make a list of things to do before I leave for Mexico. (Buy books, Find inner sex goddess, figure out what happened to Michelle and Adrienne).

And really, what you need to do is go over to Roll Up The Rugs and read what May said about Lily. That's what this whole post is leading up to. Go read what May wrote.
Now there's a post. There is writing. There is love. There is beauty.

I can relax. May's got it covered. I can write about Chex Mix and Jockey string bikinis. And Jessie can go to Jamaica with her long legs. And Lily can gestate and become more beautiful. And Hank can keep the flame going and the chickens alive.
And I can go to Mexico and my food there will look like this:


But I sort of want to put Lily's toothbrush in my suitcase. And Hank's and May's and Jessie's too.

Some things never change.

Go buy some ice cream, babies.

Here are my highlights, Ms. Hope or Ms. Lucy, whoever you are today.

Where are you Adrienne and Michelle? Are you okay? What's going on?

I'm never eating Chex Mix again.