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It's Five Minute Friday! A weekly flashmob of bloggers gathering internet-wide to write for five minutes (no stopping, no editing) on a prompt provided by sweet Kate, then linking up and sharing a little comment love. For more posts, more info, and/or to join in, head here!


When Adam got home from work yesterday evening, he asked how my day had been. "If you complain about being woken up every hour and a half one night," I replied, "you may be woken up every hour the next night." He gave me a sympathetic hug then looked at me penetratingly. "Why don't you go get coffee or something? I think you need it..."

A lot of reasons why that was a really bad idea flashed through my mind. It was almost time for Brooklyn's dinner. Tobin is extremely unpredictable as far as when he will want to be fed. What if he woke up right when Brooklyn needed to eat and be put to bed (not really one-handed tasks)? I thought about the evening before, when Adam was at work late and Tobin was hungry right after Brooklyn finished and I had to leave her at the table (she'd made a mess of her dinner and I didn't want her to touch anything) and then he started crying as soon as I put her in a bath.

But Adam assured me that they would be fine and Tobin had just spent a several-hour quietly alert period nursing at 20 minute intervals and wouldn't reasonably be hungry for awhile, so I bundled up and ventured out. My car started (I wondered - it was cold, and it hadn't been touched for three weeks) and the classical station had devoted an entire hour to Tchaikovsky's music. I turned up the volume and headed to the nearest bookstore (being dairy-free limits my coffee options, since I'm a mocha kinda gal, and a book will last longer than a frappachino will).

I wandered. 
skimmed. 
was part of a science project on whether the color someone wears affects peoples' perception of them. 
found Adam's Valentine book (see #5). 
got a book for Brooklyn and Tobin. 
found one that I'd been wanting (Leeana Tankersley's Breathing Room). 
before I came home, I drove through Burger King and got an Icee (to suppress the milkshake craving that I couldn't do anything about). 
and once I got back, I felt refreshed.

Up until a few months ago, at bedtime and naptime Brooklyn would spend at least thirty minutes "yelling at the Sandman" in a desperate attempt to ward off sleep. I realized that sometimes I do that with rest... when it's offered to me, I think of all the reasons why I can't have it or the purposed idea won't work, and then I refuse to accept it, but still feel a little bitter about not getting any. But I've been trying to pause... to breathe... to look for those moments and welcome them when they come... and I'm glad I chose to take Adam up on his sweet offer, instead of grumblingly refusing - it was a much-needed reprieve.

Are you a hospitable host to rest and peace when they come knocking?

Comments

Anonymous said…
I can intimately relate. Though only one child under my belt, I yearned for rest when she was a newborn but somehow felt myself unable to tear myself away from all that I felt I should be doing.

You wrote this beautifully - descriptive in a friendly way that makes me a bit envious and wanting to read your next chapter.

Wishing you a bit of restfulness today... your FMF friend, Melanie

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