Voice in the night

I was edging towards, well, edgy last night because it was getting late for the kids to still be up for the early morning wake up planned for our big dental day.  I could still hear them chatting away in the dark, their energy undimmed.

Sag has a thing about not wanting me to fall asleep before he does.  So, upon finishing the second season finale of Men of a Certain Age (if anyone had ever told me Ray Romano would be breaking my heart on tv episode after episode, I would not have believed them), I found the season premiere of The Closer and started to watch Brenda and the gang tackle the first case of their final season.

I was tired.  Too tired for the day-after-mayhem shots greeting my eyes.  And then, my second born came out of the bedroom.  Rubbing the too bright light out of his eyes that had dark circles under them (he had sounded so giddy just a few minutes ago) he said he was scared.  Of what?  Zombies.  (I didn't remember this last night, but he saw a commercial on tv two days ago which was meant to be satirical and was full of zombies...and it freaked him out.)

It is typical for Sag to be visited by fear in that brief time between the last words of conversation with Gem falling off their lips and the beginning of the night's sleep.  In the dark, in the quiet, something opens, something can no longer be kept at bay.

I gently shooed him back to bed, and he was back out a few minutes later.  He asked how long Gem and I were going to be at the dentist.  I had not included this bit of information when making the plans for his day because I didn't actually know how long it was going to be.  Gem would be an emergency walk-in and given that he was not in immediate crisis he would be seen before the day was done, but that could mean we could wait an hour...or four...or five.

When I shared this with him, Sag's resolve crumpled.  He loves Kelly's house and has never had an unpleasant moment with her or the girls.  But, he isn't used to spending time there, especially since we stopped going to Fiber Arts a couple of years ago.  In that pocket of darkness his doubt overwhelmed him.  What if something happened and he needed me and I wasn't going to be back for hours still?  Too much for a fragile heart.

I perceived his change of heart as a wrench in my plans.  I became officially edgy.  (Brenda and the gang were paused on a non-scary image by this point.)  I walked him back to bed and we began to hash it out.  I was pressuring him: at first indirectly, then somewhat passively aggressively, and by the end pretty bluntly (speaking truth way too harshly for an emotionally sensitive child who was already feeling vulnerable).

He was courageous.  He did not fold under the pressure.  He kept repeating his truth, more and more querulously.

And then it hit me.  There was an alternative to my rock (forcing him to go to Kelly's...it simply was not going to happen) and my hard place (taking him with me...the chance that he would not meltdown from boredom, restlessness, and my resentment, felt very, very slim and I wanted all my energy available to Gem who was facing a completely new experience in a completely new environment...energy that would be filtering through my own nervousness facing a new experience in a new environment).

Gem and I would not go.  I could postpone and regroup.  Exhale.  I gently repaired what I could.  Gem had the wonderful and sweet idea that we could all go to Kelly's for a playdate instead.  (He had been quite envious of the day he imagined Sag was going to have at their house while he was at the dental clinic.)  In moments, Sag was falling into an exhausted sleep.

The whole interaction didn't take long.  Probably ten minutes, maybe fifteen.  A drop in the bucket, so to speak.  But, those drops can add up.  What am I saying...they do add up.  Of course they do.  I am grateful that my energy was able to overcome the "stuck" of the moment.  There has been an opening of flow in the last couple of days that is palpable.

I thought my patience was being tested...but realized that Sag (and Gem, who was a thoughtful and gentle participant in the conversation) was inviting me to truly stop, look, and listen.  Once I stopped thinking shit was happening to me and at me (being stuck in a passive position), I became free to do what I wanted to do, be who I wanted to be.  I was activated.

So, no tooth pull for Gem today.  Follow the laughter and love and togetherness...that's where you'll find us.