Archive for ‘sleeping’

February 17, 2012

My stupid feet

Yesterday I was back at the podiatrist’s. I really have to take care of my Plantar Fasciitis. The bottoms of my feet hurt all the time, but especially when I wake up in the morning and after I do any sports.

Tennis season is coming up. I want to keep running. I want to be an active person, beyond doing my beautiful pilates and yoga and occasional swimming.

My podiatrist told me I MUST do the assigned stretches for my feet every day. She gave me a (cortisone?) shot in one foot and told me to come back for two more on that foot and then we’ll do three shots on the other foot. The shot hurt. I don’t want shots.

I know as we get older, like an old car, we start to break down. But I need to stay fit so that I stay sane and can destress. I don’t want to break down. I want to keep running smoothly. With Chris’s illness, I have to and want to stay healthy for the kids (and for myself).

Last night I couldn’t sleep. My forehead is still recovering from the basal cell carcinoma surgery two weeks ago. And now I’m concerned about my feet. These are small, even insignificant problems, certainly not life-threatening.

But even ordinary health problems can be irritating, slow me down. I’d like to write more about this, but I have to wake the kids and do my stupid physical therapy for my stupid feet.

September 10, 2011

Why I Couldn’t Sleep Last Night

I tossed and turned, my sheets wrapping around me and my melancholy.

I’ve said it before, Mommy needs a good night’s sleep. And last night it just wasn’t happening.

Here are some reasons:

  • I had worries about getting up early to buy and deliver breakfast to 22 kids at the church lock-in at 7 this morning.
  • I do too much.
  • Chris, my husband, is returning home tomorrow after a couple of weeks of being away. It’s an adjustment.
  • I am worried about the expense and commitment of getting Chris help with daily tasks of living for his Parkinson’s Disease.
  • It’s 9/11 weekend. It’s depressing.
  • I’m not exercising much, because of my foot pain.
  • I’ve focused too much on the kids and establishing their back-to-school routine.
  • My bedroom is too hot; the air conditioner is too loud.
  • I went to a MeetUp last night for writers who perform; had a couple of beers. Felt a little jazzed.
  • I did not write much.
  • I have anxiety about work and the possible downsizing of our agency.

I guess that’s enough. I finished Donald Miller’s Blue Like Jazz yesterday. I so identified with his discovery that we are open to forgive and love other people way more than we accept ourselves. The point of everything, every encounter — even our encounters with ourselves in the middle of the night — is love.

That is, instead of withholding love to change somebody, I poured it on lavishly. I hoped that love would work like a magnet, pulling people from the mire and toward healing.

This is tough. I have to find a way to love and forgive everybody, including myself; I need more help. Some problems can be resolved with more help and more love, and some with healthier behaviors. Here’s how I answer myself on last night’s worries:

  • I had to take one of the girls to the pediatrician's office for her ear infection. This was in the waiting room. My thoughts, like cogs, go round and round.

    You delivered the breakfast.

  • You like being busy. Being busy and happy pays off.
  • You’ll adjust to Chris’s return. You have your own travel plans.
  • Just spend the money to get Chris help.
  • This weekend will pass.
  • Exercise any way. Swim. Bike. Run. Do yoga. Do physical therapy for foot.
  • The kids are doing great.
  • Leave the air conditioner on.
  • Decompress with a book or herbal tea, not a beer.
  • Write more.
  • Let go of the work worries; there’s nothing to be done about them any way.

Writing all this has helped. I need more coffee. Maybe later, I can sneak in a nap. (Or exercise.)

June 29, 2011

Mommy Needs Sleep, Part 2

Morpheus and Iris bringing sleep to mortals

This morning I was writing in my journal. Hayden stretched in the doorway.

“There was a lot of commotion because we kept seeing the mouse,” he said by way of explanation why he and Chris woke me at 1 am.

I was crazy like a banshee in the middle of the night, “I told you two I need my sleep. As a writer and mother! Chris, your medicine or disease may keep you up all hours of the night but I need my sleep!”

My light was out around 10:45. It was the last day of school for Cath and Char. I left Catherine and Hayden awake, Hayden with his X-Box and Catherine with her iPod. Chris appeared to be playing some casino game on his computer. (Have I mentioned that at every neurologist’s appointment, the doctor asks Chris if he is is addicted to gambling? This is apparently a lovely side effect to the Parkinson’s meds.)

I made Charlie turn off her notebook and let her snuggle in with me because I have the only air-conditioned bedroom in the apartment and she promised not to bother me. All was well.

Until Catherine woke me around midnight. She had come into bed, tossing and turning, uncomfortable because of her sunburn. Then Hayden and Chris woke me around 1 — they were mouse hunting, thus the “commotion.”

Country mice don’t bother me, but city mice freak me out. I don’t know if they caught the mouse.

I only know I did not catch enough Zzzzzs. I was pissed in the middle of the night, and am tired this morning. Of course, I love my kids, my husband, but I truly love Morpheus, the god of sleep, and do not get to worship him enough.

It’s not like I haven’t told everyone I need my sleep. We even had that family meeting about it. https://runningaground.wordpress.com/2011/06/21/mommy-needs-sleep/ Ah well, I will try again tonite to get a good night sleep.

June 21, 2011

Mommy Needs Sleep

“Mom needs a good night’s sleep,” Chris told the kids.

After the dinner of tabouli was cleared away, we had a family meeting on the subject of Mom and sleep.

The night before last was horrible. H. came into bed with me because he was hot and I have the only bedroom, thanks to the generosity of our building’s handyman, with an air conditioner. Then C. came into bed an hour or two later because she couldn’t sleep. All the lights were still on. It was 3 in the morning. Chris was watching a movie. It was disquieting. When I left my bed for hers, crowded out by C. and H., C. followed me back into her twin bed, calling, “Mom? Where are you?”

“I’m in your bed!”

Musical beds.

Because of Chris’s very irregular sleep habits — he’s up all night playing bridge on the computer or watching movies he borrows from the library and he snores loudly — we hardly sleep together any more. We’ve set up a twin bed for him in the dining room.

As Chris said at the family meeting: “Do not wake Mom. She needs sleep.”

To that I said, “Thank you. As a mother I need patience. And as a writer I need mental acuity. Both of these are possible with a good night’s sleep.”

Last night I went to bed at 10. Then I read the paper in bed for 20 minutes. It was heaven. No one bothered me all night.

This morning I have woken full of patience and mental acuity. Who knows what is possible after a good night’s sleep?