“I made a nap this afternoon. I made it out of two pillows, a bed, a sheet, a blanket, and exhaustion.” ― Jarod Kintz
The heaviness of the Indian Summer air feels like a thick damp velvet curtain, draping me completely as I walk out the front door.
“It’s gonna be a hot one!” I remark to Ev as we head toward the car.
Today is only his third day of preschool, and I am already tiring of the routine. Of course, the suffocating heat doesn’t help. Ev didn’t sleep well last night; I heard him coughing now and then. I figured I had the lovely humid weather and large fields of ragweed growing nearby to thank for that cough.
As we walk out the door, Ev insists on carrying his new blue backpack. I check my pocket for the little fireman guy I put there last night. We have to return the toy to school because Ev brought it home Monday in one of the many pockets of his new blue backpack. Mr. Sticky Fingers wanted a “fireman guy” like Firefighter Steve who visited their classroom. Our new after school habit will be “The Emptying of the Pockets” just to insure this never happens again.
With Ev dropped off and the fireman guy returned, I head into the office for a few hours. My mind is swimming with all that I need to get done. Some days, I’m tired before I start and today is one of those days. My tiredness is part humidity, part allergies, part general “mom” exhaustion, part work, part worry, part frustration: it’s a mix of so many things.
Weariness seeps into my bones.
By the time I pick Ev up from school, I’m feeling the need for an afternoon siesta. Ev, of course, is full of news from school.
“Mom, I played with John Carlo again today. I really like that, but…” Ev adds with a sad little shake of his head, “he doesn’t listen all the time.”
“Do you listen all the time?”
“Um. Yes. I. Do. A little bit. Sometimes. Well, maybe sometimes.”
“I see,” I nod knowingly.
One thing about Ev: he’s the first one to tell on himself when does something disobedient.
I coax some more information from him: “Tell me about your day.”
“Well. I ate my yogurt for snack. It was good, and then I threw the container in the garbage. Everyone else ate their snack, too. The snacks were gluten free and not gluten free. Mine was–ha ha–gluten free, of course.”
“And you know what? John Carlo is allergic to cheeses. Of course I’m not allergic to the cheeses.”
I can see why he’s connecting with John Carlo. Another boy who can’t eat certain foods. I know Ev is noticing now that his food is “different” and restricted, and it’s reassuring to him that other kids also have some restrictions.
When we get home, we have a little lunch, and then I put him down to rest, hoping I will get a few minutes to close my eyes as well.
Alas, nap for me is not in the cards.
He says he’s not tired.
Wait a minute. He coughs? He sniffles? When did this start? Is this what I have to look forward this year as he mixes with lots of other kids?
Great. Just great.
I try everything to get him to settle down because we have a narrow window until I have to pick up Lizi. I’m also starting to worry that he might have been exposed to a virus; I want him to rest so he can fight it.
I grit my teeth.
I start to get ugly. (Yes, it happens. And trust me when I tell you, it’s not pretty.)
Finally, I decide to just get him up from his nap because soon we will have to get Lizi.
I walk into his room, and where he was swinging from the ceiling fan a minute ago, there lies a sweet little snoring boy.
Of course he falls asleep now. It’s Murphy’s Law; I have to leave in ten minutes.
Great. Just great.
Days like today my body feels as heavy as the air–thick and humid and sticky. All I want to do is curl up and sleep next to my Little Wonder: my bones are a dead weight.
The phone rings, and I can see from the caller ID it is Lizi calling.
Great news! No, really. This time it IS great news.
She has a ride home. Woo hoo!
Before I even hang up the phone, my eyes are closing in sleep, and I can hear myself starting to softly snore in unison with Ev…