*Where MY Wild Things Are

mischievious max (Photo credit: massdistraction)

Just call me Max, because tonight I live in my own storybook. I’m in a cranky, bad mood and while no one sent me to my room, I almost wished they had. It started off with not knowing where my husband was, he was missing. He didn’t leave a note but he could have left one word on a napkin and that would have been fine. He also left our whining dog, prowling around the house while I was trying to rest and get a little sleep because I felt extra crummy. It wasn’t fair.

It was a bad day for Fibromyalgia and chronic pain, my jaw hurt so much, I had ear pain and TMJ and a headache and no one cared. I wasn’t able to sleep because my dog was annoying me. She wouldn’t even settle down on the bed, up and down, up and down she jumped and I was too tired and achy to get out of bed to put her in the crate. Friends tell me I’m in a Fibro Flare but all I know is that I feel worse, much worse. The weather gets damp and now it’s pouring buckets like my expectations and mood, dumping down on the roof, bypassing the dirty, leaf-filled gutters and ending up in big, thick, muddy puddles. I don’t have rain boots and I can’t play anyway anymore.

I ended up eating a tuna sandwich standing up, alone, in the kitchen, with one foot crossed over the other and I ate it so fast that I didn’t enjoy it one bit. I even gave the dog, “the whining one” some of it. Just as I am shoveling down the sandwich, Mr. Last Minute Ambulance Aider comes strolling in with his fake, perky voice and I feel even angrier. I march up the stairs with the rest of my crappy dinner and the dog follows me for food, not for compassion. My only hope at feeling better is getting to eat the two last bites of the brownies that we saved and I am NOT going to share.

The last two weeks haven’t been good at all, okay, they sucked.  I had the hospital procedure and the horrific mammogram both done this week and I know it’s over but maybe not over one hundred percent because now I’m fuming inside like a chimney with an angry orange fire.  A new friend that I met over the summer,” sisters in spirit,” never sent me a birthday card when I thought for sure she would and I miss not having a dad. I believe in the good in people and then they disappoint me. At the same time a new friend thinks I should self-publish my blogs into a book with photographs. What? It came out of left field for me too. I guess we need to learn about balance sometimes.

My daughter is away at college and is sick again and I hate that. I offer to come up there or asks if she wants to come home but she says “No” and I worry, no matter how old they are and then I say out loud ” I wish you weren’t in college so far away.” I probably should have kept my mouth shut too but I couldn’t.

I am going to sneak down to the kitchen and at the end, I do announce taking the two brownie bites because after all, my husband wasn’t exactly doing a bad thing. They didn’t even taste good. I know that this stupid, horrible, unjust day will look much brighter in the morning when the sun shines, when my jaw stops hurting, after a good night’s sleep. All I’ve been doing is whining, I guess my dog and I have a lot in common.

*Based on the enchanting book:Where The Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak

I’m Sorry, Birdies

Dear Birds Right Outside My Bedroom Window,

I would like to take this opportunity to formally apologize for muttering bad words and complaining about your recent happy chirping while I was desperately trying to get more sleep at 5:30 AM. How dare I complain when I feed you and encourage you to visit?

I love watching all my birds but a special apology and shout out go to the “Cardinal Family” who brighten each day with their flashes of red beauty across a white sky. I feel especially guilty because you KNOW I always welcome you with great love and joy. I always smile when you come and I listen joyfully to your songs and I watch you feed each other; you are a blessing of nature. Again, I am so sorry; please forgive this one mishap. I feel bad enough, believe me. Those who really know me will tell you how sincere I am. If you would like, references are available on request.

Since this happened a few days ago I have been wracked with guilt. There was no reason for me to take my grouchiness and lack of a good night’s sleep out on you. No excuses. Your songs were beautiful, as always, and I know you were just talking to each other and singing and you have every right to do that. Even though my cranky rant was muttered into my pillow, I know you heard me. I am a disgrace to human kind.

I see the bird feeder is running a little low on your favorite black sunflower seeds. For my punishment, I will drag my lazy behind from the bed to the outdoor shed and refill it immediately. I’m sorry that you don’t like me wasting seeds by throwing them on the grass for the squirrels, but they are my friends too. We all need to share and you know they can’t reach YOUR bird feeder anymore.

Rest assured birdies (and no pun was intended) I will not complain again. Instead, I will try to enjoy the (um, early) day and I will sit down at the kitchen table with my extra-strong mug of espresso/Starbucks mix and I will raise my cup to thank you for all the good times we have shared.

Your Friend,

Hibernationnow

please, let me fall back asleep

i fall asleep so easily it’s like i have an instant iv drip attached to my hand, it’s a relief for my aching bones and over-active mind. i snuggle into my favorite position, two pillows beneath my head; my brown hair pulled back in a ponytail with a thin black elastic band. i’m wearing only a soft, red, popeye cotton tee shirt. i dream about swimming and floats and old friends and the artist known as prince and friendly unknown neighbors wearing j.crew sweater sets. in my dreams my son is three again, i don’t need freud to figure that one out. he’s college bound and i am feeling nostalgic, oprah is leaving me too.

i wake up automatically at 4am and at the same time every night for the last few weeks. i desperately want to go back to sleep and i try but it’s of no use. i play every game, try every trick and nothing works. i give up and drag my computer to the tiny extra bedroom/office to see if there is someone awake on the other end of the screen. usually no one is. i know it takes time for me to fall asleep, usually between two and two and a half hours and there is not much i can do about it. i have been through this pattern before, i just want it to stop.

i’m so tired but my head and body are still awake and they won’t give up the fight no matter how hard i try. i try not to try and that doesn’t work either. i notice things in the room that i haven’t noticed before, forgotten dusty books, a paperweight with dainty blue flowers. my dog has followed me in the room, she is so used to coming downstairs with me at around ten for a snack that she is confused.  i sit cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by clean laundry, my eyes wandering to my angel statue, my daughter’s first ballerina shoe that i framed, boxes of writing since high school, a mini twa jet i keep in honor of my father. my whole life is in this room and around it.

i want to be back lying in bed beneath my royal blue quilt, and a an old comforter in a cherry covered duvet. i love any pattern of cherries, they make me happy. i want to sleep but i know i can’t, my head is like a ticking clock. my teeth and jaw ache, it’s probably tmj, i think clinically. i remember i never called my friend back yesterday and i don’t like being rude but it will have to wait until tomorrow. sorry, but of all people i know she will understand. she suffers from fibromyalgia and chronic pain issues too. apparently sleep problems are common among us in the tribe.

finally at around 6:30 i start yawning and crawl back in bed keeping my eyes averted from the clock on my bedside table. i have stayed up long enough that i think it will be ok, my eyes close, again. all the colors become white, the fresh air coming from the window is softly soothing. i beg the birds not to come out and sing for just a little while.