Had a great evening last night at the movie MONUMENTAL. It was like hearing from old friends and visiting familiar places. How blessed we are to KNOW our nation's heritage and be part of a school that is teaching this to the next generation. So grateful.
But a movie in the "theratre" (as Little man calls it) on a school night is NOT business as usual for the troops. It was way past bedtime when we got home and to bed and the giggles had already set in. Well, in the girls' room, at least. In the boys' room, it's always the munchies (time for granola bars, all around!). We finally got the troops (minus our two oldest who left on Choir Tour in the afternoon) settled down and after a LONG, busy day.
I've been having trouble going to sleep, lately. I'm not sure why. It seems the minute I lie down on my pillow, my mind speeds into over-drive and it's all I can do to focus my thoughts enough to pray. My mind bounces from the to-do list, to what is on the calendar for tomorrow, to sweet friends who are hurting, to various issues with each of our kids, to what the Lord is teaching me. . .
Sleep finally came about midnight. I'm still proud of myself for not getting up and working - those late night hours can be SUCH a productive time, but I pay for it in the morning.
At 3AM, a LOUD ringing siren scared us out of sleep. The house alarm is going off. Fire? Intruder? Then I lifted my head to see Little Man, screaming, crying, running into the girls' room, with arms flailing.
Unbelievably, the Coach actually woke up - he's one SOUND sleeper - or maybe it was my elbow in his ribs. . . he bounded out of bed and ran down the hall, hesitating just long enough to debate whether to get Little Man out of the girls room first, or run across the house to the alarm key pad and disable the ear-splitting siren.
Such a dear, dear man is my Coach. And if I hadn't been startled half-to-death with my heart beating out of my chest. . . I probably would have laughed at the sight of him. . . bounding down the hall . . .
At least it's funny, now.
In a matter of minutes, the whole thing was over. Alarm silenced, Little Man tucked back in, the Coach and I in bed. . . having checked all of the doors and convinced ourselves that everything was OK. Except for our racing hearts, anyway.
It's funny how wide awake we were. And how we couldn't keep from wondering if Little Man HAD opened the door. . . or if something else triggered the alarm. . . our minds aren't very logical in the wee hours of the morning. It didn't help that the Coach mentioned, as a side note, "I think we have a gas leak, somewhere, the garage smelled funny." Thanks, Babe. . . that information will put me RIGHT to sleep.
Sleep finally came. . . about an hour and a half later. Amid dreams of burglaries and fires and . . . yes, I even dreamed of a gas explosion. Hence the bleary eyes and dark circles, this morning.
Of course, Son #4 came out dressed for school this morning, and said, "Yeah, Little Man opened the garage door last night. I heard the alarm beeping, then when the siren went off, he started screaming."
Thanks, Buddy. Thanks for just lying there. And letting the alarm go off. I appreciate it.
Let's just hope I can stay awake long enough to make it through this day and not do anything too terribly stupid.
The joys of parenting, Lesson 101: Beware of sleep-walkers.
I'm thinking a higher lock (that Little Man can't reach) on the garage door is in order.
Happy Wednesday!
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