This Morning's Ramblings

She blinked in the darkness. A slight knock on the bedroom door that awaken her and now, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she wondered what would greet her in the dark. Would it be a sick and teary child who had soiled the bed sheets? Maybe a bed soaking wet with the result of too much water before bedtime. Instead, once given permission, in walked the tall slim boy of six. He too was rubbing his eyes as he stood at her bedside.

“Mommy, I had a nightmare.”

The only response she could give was an invitation into the warm purple sheets of which she was entangled. The mother’s husband, who lay beside her, let out a snore as he shifted in bed. In climbed the six year old, pinning the mother like a monkey in the middle. His youth showed bright as he snuggled as close as he could and the sniffle told her the nightmare was still lingering beneath his eyelids.

“What did you have a nightmare about?”

Another sniffle, trying to fuse his face with her collar bone as he recounted toys that destroyed people.

Within two minutes of cozy comfort and her assuring him that he could snuggle for a just little bit, the alarm clock waiting in the shadows of the nearby bathroom began blazing. Bed sheets and bodies were rearranged as the mother, who had not been prepared for the arrival of 5:30am, clambered out of bed to shut off the intrusive noise that screamed a very unwelcoming, “Good morning!”

So it wasn't the hoped-for two o’clock  in the morning that promised several more hours of sleep and snuggle. Dang it! In she climbed again between her husband and son. After some time the boy found a place of comfort and quickly fell fast asleep.

So much for “just a little bit”. She twisted and turned and reveled in the bed sheets. She was comfortable and warm, but she also craved the determination needed to start her day. The much desired Bible study and quiet time writing… it all sat in another room outside of the dark, warm bed.  It only took her an hour to say, “Enough is enough!”

Now, how was she to leave her position in the middle of the bed? In the days when the couple shared a bed with the worse little sleeper known to mankind, she would embrace the baby, stomach to stomach, and then, with ease, roll him up and over to the other side of her, thus switching places and being free to leave. While she attempted the same process with this lengthy six year old boy she quite failed seeing as his limbs and weight were no match with the nocturnal baby. There was no easy up-and-over roll possible.

While the movements and grunts to get out of bed would have made a ballet instructor shake their head in discouragement, she was out!

So it had been a nightmare about toys taking over the human world and destroying people? Sitting in the near-spotless living room with an open Bible and poised pen she thought it was no wonder he was having nightmares about pieces of plastic coming alive and taking over their lives. Had she not spent a good six hours the day before “recovering” from the Christmas-mess? It was as if their house had imploded in on itself as she waded through a jungle of laundry, new Christmas toys, and the old toys that needed new homes. Toys taking over one’s life? Yes, she could picture the battle as she sat in the dim light. Plastic army men littered the playroom floor, plastic marine animals drying on the bathroom floor, and six hours of cleaning with more to come?

Yes, she could see the nightmare and wondered why she hadn't dreamt it herself.