Sunday, February 12, 2012

Cleocatra Has Whiskers

I was planning to sleep in this morning to make up for some of the sleep I lost over the weekend when we had a slumber party with the kids.  But apparently somebody set the alarm when they went to bed last night so at 5:45 a.m. my search for the lost and terrified person in a crumbling and dangerous pyramid abruptly ended.  I don’t always know where the topics of my dreams originate but I do happen to know why I was dreaming about pyramids.  The final Friday slumber party activity at our house had been an Indiana Jones-like movie, only instead of people, animals were the stars.  Dean and I, of course, hoped watching this movie late in the evening would make the kids tired, relaxed and ready for bed.  Instead, it awoke fears of skeletons, evil cats, darkness and all the other nasty things masked by a G-rating.  Who knew that puppies, monkeys, a camel and an ugly hairless cat could wreak such terror in the minds of the young.  Or maybe only young girls are vulnerable, because Pierce, who had already seen the movie, provided a giggling running commentary to his sisters throughout the whole movie. 

It turns out girls just don’t like “really scary skeletons.”  I would describe them to you but it seems I was nodding off during their appearance.  (NOW I know why two girls climbed into my lap.  And here I thought it was just because they wanted to cuddle.)  All I know is, instead of drowsy, heavy-lidded children crawling into bed at the end of the movie, there was one giggling four-year old boy, one wide-eyed, messy-haired, redhead convinced she could not sleep downstairs in the guest room because “downstairs is SCARY!” and she could not sleep in a sleeping bag upstairs in the den because that would be “SCARY!”  She could “ONLY sleep with Nada andPapa.”   She was just “TOO SCARED!”  And there was one eight-year old girl who also became “really scared” because, I suspect, she determined sleeping with Nada and Papa far more fun than sleeping downstairs with her brother.  

I was scared later too ― scared to move them into the sleeping bags next to our bed in case they woke up.  But the heavy snoring coming from the bed gave me courage and I was able to crawl into a toasty bed warmed from the bodies of children.



The next morning, after waking “bright” and early, as we waited for Leslie and Ryan to come for breakfast, I finished reading them the book we had started the night before.  That might sound like a simple task but you try holding a book in your left hand while protecting your mug of much needed caffeine in your right hand from the hard and pointy protuberances that are squirming next to you.  






A bit later Myra used the telescope she'd made the night before to spy on Emerson and Dean as they made us all lemon ricotta pancakes.  Emerson and Pierce had a soccer game later that morning and soccer players need a lot of energy. 







 


I promise I had absolutely no part in encouraging her to use some of the found items Dean has hoarded collected for art projects.  And I did not do the happy dance when she took her telescope made of those hoarded found objects home with her.  I did not.  Really.  Did not.  





Anyway ... as I was saying, soccer players need alot of energy.  Almost as much energy as the soccer coaches.  Especially when they are coaching little four-year old girls who are screaming and crying while at the same time sucking their thumb as their mom is on the field with them, standing beside them, pointing at the ball that just rolled by them while at the same time the other coach is trying to get the goalie who is sitting inside the goal examining his new tennis shoes to stand up.  Pierce knew he was going to have to "step up" at the soccer game so he strengthened his leg muscles in preparation for scoring a goal.  
















 

After the intense soccer competition Dean and I just had to decompress so we decided to do some cross-country skiing.  Cross-country skiing is a bit like touring Yellowstone Park.  You don’t have to go far off the beaten path to have the place to yourself.   











The sun was shining, we got to share a chocolate bar guilt free, the air was crisp and clear with only the occasional tendril of diesel smoke wafting our way from the snowmobilers helping at the dog-sled races, and it was quiet.  The only sounds were the crunching of our skis on the trail and the indistinct chattering of Dean up ahead of me. 

It was a great way to unwind, reflect on the activities of the day, burn some calories and get some exercise other than on the evil elliptical machine.  As the day came to an end I was looking forward to a deep and dreamless sleep, leisurely waking up this morning as I enjoyed the warmth of the blankets and maybe the gentle rubbing of a kitty paw on my face.  But instead I suffered through a night of snoring, woke to beep!beep!beep!beep! and couldn't save the lost soul wandering through the depths of a pyramid, alone and scared.  From now on I'm sticking to R-rated movies.*  Maybe I'll sleep better.

*Not for the children, of course.  They'll have to endure those creepy G movies and hope they can sleep without nightmares.

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3 comments:

Abby said...

You need to keep a pad of paper and pencil by your bed and write those crazy dreams down. Maybe you should start a dream blog full of half dreams...or maybe not.

Susan said...

You have a busy life! I hope you get caught up on your sleep.

Christie said...

I love your stories! And your writing style - it's as if I can see you and hear your voice telling the story while I read it. :)