Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Into the Light

I hid under my bed tonight. I walked in my room, turned off the light and looked for the best hiding place I could find. The space was cramped and as I curled up in the fetal position, my hips scraped the frame and ached. I didn't care. I wanted to escape. I really hoped the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Sad moans escaped, then full fledged sobs. I lay there and daydreamed about cocooning in black fabric so no one could see me or suck me dry anymore. I listened to the voice of my sweetheart downstairs, cheerfully helping my children with the dishes and the reconstruction of the hamster cage. His voice was soothing and happy, but I also heard the voices of my torturers and knew I could not come out.

After an hour, I felt a knee in my back then a small hand as it reached over my body. It reached again... and again. "What was it doing so quietly?" I wondered. Finally I saw a fringe of blanket flip over my feet as I felt the small body behind me struggle to wedge anything over my tightly wedged body. After about 5 minutes the blanket was as covered as it was going to get. I then heard little feet traipse over to the other side of the bed and then wriggle under and over to my face. "Mom? Mom? We did the dishes and the hamster cage. What else can we do for you? Is there anything you need? My heart had been melting for the last five minutes and now it was in a pretty good state of thaw. I silently reached out and grabbed a soft padded hand and held it in my own. "Would you like to sleep on your bed now? Come on out."

At this point I am wondering what strange things my children are inferring about the world when they find their mom comatose under a bed. I finally speak. "I think I'm stuck."

"I'll get you out!" I could hear the excitement building. "Oh great I thought. I am now a humiliated family project." I heard Anika outside my room. "Rose, come help me. Mom is stuck under the bed."

"What is she doing under the bed?" Asked a very incredulous four year old. "I don't know, I guess she just wanted to go under there. But Dad and Haylie went to the store and it is up to us."

I heard soft feet pad to my backside again. Little hands coached me and massaged me onto my back and then little hands tugged and tugged till I was out in the world again. I hugged my two saviors who had brought me back to the light and brought them downstairs for chocolate Creamies.

Yep. Sometimes that's life.


  1. Too bad we have a captian's bed. I can't get under mine.

  2. Maybe that wasn't meant to be too funny but I am still chuckleing (sp) at the picture. I am so glad that I have adorable neices to take care of my big sister.

  3. Your blog reads better than a novel! Strangley enough I sympathize with you. I have not tried cacooning yet, but I have repeatedly been scolded by my 3 year old each time I try to feel sorry for myself. She calmly and firmly commands me not to through a tantrum. That's right just as simple and staight forward as that, Amaya has told me (in the same tone I tell her)..."No hagas berinches Mami. Then she very patiently continues to tell me to explain to her what I want. This is exactly how I deal with her when she is frustrated. We are precisely the mirror through which our little ones perceive the world.