The Lounging Observer.

I've been down for the count for a few days.

My only solution to counteract the symptoms is sleep.  I've slept a lot these days which is hard because when its time for bed, sleep evades me.  Go figure.  I lay in my bed last night listening to the lilac bushes brush against our siding because our bed sits against that same wall.  I wasted about thirty minutes wishing those lilacs were in bloom. (There's NOTHING like the smell of lilacs in Spring.) 

Ben leaves for work early, early in the morning, and after he left, Lincoln and Will climbed into bed with me.  I listened to them laughing in their sleep (I love it when they do that) and one of them kept saying, "Jellybeans, jellybeans...."  It was hilarious.  At least somebody's happy, right?

I was still in bed while they were eating breakfast before school.  Will kept singing Sinatra, of all people.  "Come fly with me, let's float down to Peru . . ."  He actually stayed on tune.  That song makes me happy (and a little wishful that I was in Peru right now).  Most Sinatra songs do.  RANDOM ASIDE: It's moments like that when I regret not singing with the Jazz band in high school.  I was too caught up in being "cool"--I now understand how relative that term is--to sing with the band.  But looking back with regret doesn't help anything, ever, so I'm moving on (honestly, I haven't lost any sleep over that, it's just a passing thought every once in a while).

I've learned something whilst assuming the role of "lounging observer" in my own home:

I do so much for my kids, too much even, when they are capable of doing so much more.  I realized this especially in the morning.  I always make a big breakfast, something I grew up with and loved, and remind, remind, remind the kids to stay on task, get their shoes on, brush their teeth, hair, watch for the bus, get their library books, etc.  (In Brigham's defense, he is exempt from all this.  He is ALWAYS ready, always prompt.)  

When they know I won't pick up the slack for them (like now, being sick), they step up.  They can.  And I think they feel somewhat empowered when Mom doesn't save them all the time.  I guess I struggle with finding that balance because I love them and want to do things for them, to help them.  But how much should I do, or not do?  That's what I'm learning, or, that's what my eyes are open to now.  I'm excited to see how our house evolves because of this, how we become better.  I think this is positive change in the making.

Now, if I could just get out of bed . . .