Complexities

Tonight I called my friend. I was in a complex mood, and I announced (as though I were laying down the law of the Medes and Persians) that “I am a complex woman. . .” Indeed. Aren’t we all? At least those of us who ARE women. . .though I don’t think I have many male followers.

Anyway. I am not in a hormonal surge at the moment. I am not sick, nor am I tired. I am just full of complexities. . .diversity. . .over stimulation. . .and lack of time to sit and be. Or walk and be. Or write and be.

As I was getting ready to put Thad and Victoria to bed (as in, “Kids, brush your teeth and get in bed,” then going to hug and kiss them), I started reciting part of Goodnight Moon to Thad. This was, actually, not a book I normally read to Thad when he was little. It was in Victoria’s stack. Thad had trucks and heroes and Curious George and PJ Funny Bunny who discovered that he did, in fact, want to be a rabbit and eat his carrots after all.

I decided, in all of my COMPLEXITY, that I NEEDED to read Goodnight Moon to my 7th grader and 3rd grader. *Ahem* It shows what wonderful children I have that when I said, “Boy, can I read Goodnight Moon to you?” He answered with, “Of course, Momma.” They also sat still for AND enjoyed Jesse Bear, What Will You Wear.

Because I wasn’t certain of a perfect recitation of the Margaret Wise Brown classic, I began by looking on the bookshelf. . .then I began pulling books OFF the shelf in search of one of our two copies of the book. I ended up IN THE ATTIC digging through a box of Little People then yet another box in which I found the book. As I grew more and more determined to find the book, I realized that I didn’t want to read it out of nostalgia or to sooth my children to sleep after a busy day.

No. I did, in fact, want to soothe myself.

And my complexity.

I needed the rhythm of the words to rock me like I used to rock Victoria when she was a baby. I now realize that in rocking her, I was also rocking myself. It was a time to sit and be still and rest from the travails of the day. A time when it was “okay” for me to be still and not do ANYTHING but rock my baby. And had I been able to fit either or both of my children into my lap in our rocking chair–never mind “comfortably”–I would have done it. I would have rocked and read and soothed myself.

And my complexity.

As it went, I sat at the foot of Victoria’s bed with she and Thad both under her covers and read both books to them. . .and I very nearly cried during Jesse Bear, because it was so bittersweet to remember. (Which is why I don’t look at my childrens’ baby pictures if I can help it.)

So. It is now time to say “Goodnight comb. Goodnight brush. And good night to the old lady whispering hush. Goodnight stars. Goodnight Air. Goodnight noises everywhere.”

Good night, Complexity.

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4 thoughts on “Complexities

  1. I love that book. I read it to both the boys many many times.
    Good night old lady whispering hussssshhhhh. We always put our finger to our lips and shhhhh-ed at that part 🙂 Ah, nostalgia.
    I’m gong to look at some baby pictures now.
    Love you friend, and all your complexities!

  2. Well, I AM in the middle of hormonal upheaval, and all manner of other life-goin’s on, so had I not been able to find the book after 2 pokes in a shelf (and we have exactly one unpacked book shelf and I am quite certain it contains nothing of the sort of “Goodnight, Moon”) I would have sat in the middle of the floor and cried. So I admire your determination to soothe your complexities. Sounds like a precious evening.

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