There are some nights when I am just so completely exhausted it's unbelievable. These last few nights I can't seem to keep my eyes open past 9:00. Even 8:30 starts pushing my wakeful resolve. And I start wondering, Why in the world am I so doggone tired???
Jason reminds me that this is a period of transition that is emotionally draining. Fun, yes (most days...). Exciting, yes. Stimulating, yes. But definitely draining. There are times that try the most indominable of spirits (and although I enjoy a certain amount of joie de vivre, I'm not a particularly indominable spirit).
Some mornings our dear angel (Jesse, that is; not moi) awakes with a huge grin. Happy as can be. The proverbial clam, as it were. Everything is sunshine and roses and sparkly with new adventures. Other mornings he awakes with what my sister calls the Sawyer Scowl (for the benefit of those Lost fans reading this).
On those mornings of the latter variety, Jesse slumps on his bed like a boneless mass of inertia personified. He awards my pre-coffee bleary, gearing-up-for-this-new-day self with his crankiest can-you-SMELL-that-bad-smell? face.
Joy oh joy, I think to myself. Here we go.
Putting my best emotional foot forward, I smile warmly and wish him a bright good morning with lots of happy tones in my voice.
He drones on and on in continuous soft little whiny sounds. Low-grade fussy noises that have this amazing ability to grate.
Suddenly the simplest tasks are insurmountable. You'd think I'd asked him to climb Mount Everest or negotiate peace in the Middle East. If not summarily impossible, pretty darn close.
We find ourselves unable to put socks on. We can't get our arms out of our PJ top. Tears form when can't put the tongue of the shoe in the right way and it bunches up inside the velcro. What is velcro? Suddenly we've never seen such a thing before.
The best is when we suddenly don't understand the basic English words and phrases and commands that we have shown many times that we understand perfectly. Instead of cooperation and obedience I get blank stares of feigned incomprehension.
Go to the bathroom? Can't do it alone. accompanied by whiny noises
Put on socks? They hang limply off the edge of the foot. whimper whimper They just won't go on.
Of course one can't really get all worked up about it. One must be patient and understanding, realizing that even though dear wee one may understand -- perfectly -- he is still adjusting, too. It's gotta be overwhelming for him, also, to be thrust into a whole new life with these new adult roommates and their expectations.
And, to be honest, some days we just don't feel like doing the things we're supposed to do. Sometimes we want someone else to do it for us. Or to be right there with us. Not because we can't do it on our own, but because for the first time in four very long years, we don't have to.