Uggghhh... I should know better. Actually, I do know better, but last night I was sucked in again.
Jason left yesterday afternoon for Daytona, so Charlie and I are having a fun-filled Mommy and Son weekend. Well, my "fun-filled" son asked to go to bed at 6:45 last night (not too suprising since yesterday was his first day back at school post-bug), but that left me with the whole evening ahead of me. And while I love to go to bed early, even I can't do 7:00 -- especially when both dogs need to go out around 10:00 to make it through the night.
So, like any other temporarily single mom trying to bask in her evening of no chores and full control of the remote, I poured a glass of wine, turned on the TV and browsed through the chick-channels. I quickly came across an episode of Dr. Phil, whom I haven't watched in years -- mainly because he's condescending and annoying, but also because I don't have the time (or know when he's on). Seeing that the episode was about child abductions and the "five things parents should do to protect their child", I settled in to learn. Huge mistake!
Ten minutes later I was completely enthralled, tears running down my face, horrified by the idea that if I ever let Charlie out of my sight again some monster might take him, and...I can't even go on from there. Of course, the "five tips" were at the very end of the show, by which time I was so emotionally unstable, that I can only remember number five - to get him a passport (huh?).
Realizing that this whole incident was reminiscent of my Dateline NBC addiction back in my single days (which, by the way, resulted in having to move to a much larger, more expensive apartment just to get off the first floor), I wiped my tears, scrounged a cinnamon roll out of the freezer and switched to Grey's Anatomay -- second huge mistake of the night.
One hour later, I'd suffered through way more personal drama than I want to believe my doctors and nurses are going through when I'm needing care, a four year old child suffering endlessly in the ER waiting to be put in a a double-leg cast, and a young father dying of an exploded artery (or something) when he went to the emergency room for heartburn. Uggghhh... Is nothing safe?
Needless to say, I laid awake in bed bemoaning the state of the world, the dangers and uncertainties and the fact that Charlie was going to have to face all of this without my watchful eye someday. On the bright side, I didn't worry about break-ins and power outages, but I still woke up with tremendous bags under my eyes at 5:15 -- apparently Charlie's preferrred wake up time if he goes to bed so early. Can I say "uggghhh" one more time?
Seriously, though, my little blessing did his job this morning. He woke up in a fabulous mood -- immediately begging me to "pull down yo seeves, mama!" when he saw my short-sleeved t-shirt, demanding to wear his gray sweatpants, spending half of the morning vacuuming and the other half playing with my shoes on the porch, and calling a very tired Daddy in Daytona to shout "I love you, Daddy" over the phone. My Charlie Bear even out-shined this glorious, mid-February 70 degree and sunny day.
Yes, I still have to figure out how to teach him to protect himself. Yes, I still have to do to everything possible to ensure that Jason and I live very long, very healthy lives. No, I cannot go out today and buy a child-leash or a bubble.
But, despite this world's best intentions, the light and wonder and joy still overcomes the darkness -- I just have to be reminded of it sometimes -- thankfully, some fervent prayers and a 23 month old delight work miracles!
I am determined to outsmart the realities of the world tonight. After Charlie's and my "date" at Chick-Fil-A (yes -- he asked me out on a date!), I'm going to settle in with a good, light-hearted chick-flick -- even if I have to call Jason in Daytona and have him walk me through the Netflix through the Blu-Ray thing. And if that doesn't work, I'll read or play solitaire or wash my hair or something...no reality or drama for me tonight!
