9 minutes of chaos and catharsis...

It's another dark morning.  I'm woken to small warm hands on my face and hot breath in my ear:  "Mommy, is it morning, or night?"  My 4 3/4 year old alarm clock.  I can't help but smirk, even if every ounce of energy that wasn't replenished from my lack of sleep is telling me it's 6:30 and I shouldn't be smiling about getting up so early. 

But, I do.  And I'm glad. 

I'm running the Hladky fun-factory while Dan's away in Asia on business (visiting not-so-fun factories...I know he misses ours as much as we miss him.)  Originally, this was a 2 week trip...which has now turned into 3 weeks...Needless to say, I'm missing my right-hand-man.  Lots.

I'm still in my cozy bed, covered by my quilt, and now, one little arm and one little leg belonging to my alarm clock--draped over my side and wiggling.  "Isaac, can you just be still for a little bit?"  Silence, and stillness, then, movement again.  "But, but...but, Mom...I like to move." 


In the midst of chaos are moments like these with my sons.  Isaac just happened to be my reminder...the one who pulled the plug to my emotional drain.  I have to let it out.  I have to express need, express frustration, express impossibilities to myself, and even to (gulp) my children. 

"Isaac, honey," I move his legs off of me, "Mommy misses Daddy very much, and she didn't sleep well."  I try and look into his eyes in the moonlit room, and he gets so close we're nose-to-nose.  "I just need some rest." 

Serious and snuggling into the covers with me:  "Mommy, I'll just rest with you." 

Sometimes the rest we think we need in the middle of chaos isn't what we need at all. 

In those 9 minutes from when I hit the snooze bar to when the radio came on again, I found a small piece of heaven.  Isaac lay as still as is possible for his busy, lanky frame...and I closed my eyes and thanked God for a boy who could remind me to be still and know who's in charge yet again. 

I feel better now. 

My little alarm clock, 2 1/2 years old