Mix together a green monster and a cortisone shot, and you get...4:00am insomnia!

It's early. Really, really, really early. (At least for me. I'm not one of those moms who manages to drag myself out of bed at 4:00am to do yoga and have a little "me time" before the kids wake up at 6:00 and the 15 hours of daily life, work, and parenting chaos begins. You know that mantra we all read in parenting magazines and see on Oprah and hear from numerous filthy rich airbrushed celebrity moms who probably have multiple nannies to help lighten their load: "Take care of the mother of the household, or the household will fall apart." I agree that you have to take some time for yourself to maintain your sanity, but getting up at 4:00am BY CHOICE is not taking care of yourself, in my mind. It's not "Me time." It's robbing myself of precious sleep that I will never, ever get back! I digress...) So, I haven't been awake since 4 in the morning because I am about to embark on some sort of exercise program or meditation or any of the other things I keep hearing I should be doing. I'm awake because of the green-eyed monster...

Just before 4:00, I woke up to hear Foster's small, scared voice from Daddy's side of the bed. "Daddy, I had a bad dream. It was a green monster with a green eye. And you and Mommy were there too, but you were green." Daddy's half-asleep response? "OK. Well, it's just a dream (pat, pat). Go back to bed." Sorry, babe, that's just not gonna cut it for this Mommy. You don't hear that frightened, shaking little voice and just send him back to bed with a pat on the head. You also don't ever, ever send a 4-year-old, who just had a nightmare, back to bed without first going potty. Not unless you're planning on washing sheets in the morning. And, let's face it. The one throwing sheets in the washer before rushing out the door in the morning would NOT be Daddy... It would be me. SIGH.

Anyway, I sat up and whispered, "Sweetie, you're safe. You're awake now. I'll get up and meet you at the potty, and then I'll come and tuck you in." Then I got out of bed. That's when I remembered that I had a cortisone shot in my ankle joint and heel just a few hours ago. Oh, yeah. Blinding pain. Forgot about that. Really, it's a testament to Motherhood (cue the angelic background music) that I even woke up at the sound of my little one's voice. Two extra-strength pain relievers, a glass of Cabernet, and a Benadryl should've knocked out a horse (even a horse who just had a cortisone shot in her ankle joint) for at least 8 hours, don't you think? Have you ever had a cortisone shot? I had my first one in my ankle and heel 3 months ago, and I uttered a word that I don't even think of when some idiot on her cell phone cuts me off in traffic, causing my travel coffee cup to go flying and spill coffee all over the only pair of work pants that's actually clean enough to wear to work and still fits my expanding rear end, and making me think of some very creative words I'd like to yell at her, but can't, because my kids are sitting right behind me....A. Very. Bad. Word. And I said it loudly. To my orthopedic surgeon. Whose son goes to the school where I am a school counselor. Yikes.

What is my point? Bear with me, folks, I'm sleep-deprived, and my ankle feels like it's actually resting in a lit BBQ. My point is this: It really hurts. My other point is this: It doesn't matter how much it hurts, because, when your little one is terrified and trying very, very hard to be a brave boy, you limp over to him, you snuggle him, you take him to the potty, and then you tuck him in and let him tell you all about his dream (including the part where, not only am I completely green all over, but I have a bird beak instead of a human mouth -- What is that all about?) until he feels safe and secure again. And, I'll tell you, while I was lying in his bed, with my arms wrapped around him, I couldn't feel the pain in my ankle. All I could feel was his little body shaking, his heart pounding, his skinny little arms gripping (and I do mean gripping) my neck, and then that wonderful feeling when he started to relax, to breathe a little bit easier, then gave me a kiss and said, "I love you so, so, much, Mommy." Cortisone shot? What cortisone shot?

But, now I have insomnia. There's no more sleep for me today. I tried to watch some T.V. earlier, but we only have basic cable (Damn recession!) My choices were CNN (which I actually watch fairly regularly, but not at 4:00am), the shopping network (sorry, nice lady from Texas, but I actually don't need a gaudy ring the size of an actual chicken's egg to wear around the house, in spite of your insistence that it will make me really, really happy), a weird old movie on the Canadian T.V. channel, or a variety of infomercials designed to make me feel bad about myself and spend lots of money erasing my wrinkles, firming my abs, "lengthening my thighs" (Will that make me taller?), fixing my thinning hair, or buying a vacuum cleaner that will miraculously make my house incredibly clean, and "It does all the work for you". Yeah, right.

Think I'll head out to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. And, maybe I'll grab a piece of the leftover Domino's pizza John and I were eating while we watched The Biggest Loser last night (I know. It's wrong on so many levels). It's just after 5:00 now (I took a break from writing to take a couple more Tylenol and stare out the window for a bit), so the early, early, early show should be coming on soon, and I can get the news before anybody else gets up. Hey -- I guess I'm having some of that "Me time!" Cheers!