Journal: Earth Mother
Date: 1-7-18, previous cycle began 7-26-12 (Initiation into the Age of Reason)
States of Alyrica: The Sleepless Sleepover
Initiation into the Age of Rebellion
by Felina Lune Kavi
I open the door to Alyrica’s bedroom and 6 eyes fell upon
me…sleep-deprived, yet unblinking so as not to miss what I was going to
say. Eyebrows raised like question
marks. Are they in trouble? We’re they too loud?
I drew a breath, and raised my own question. “Which one of you can tell me…why?”
The question set in to all three girls, then, and
immediately showed in body language…each one pondering the answer in a moment
of silence.
The one who shifted her gaze away first, spoke first. “What do you mean, why? Why what?”
“Can you tell me WHY?” I asked, then offered my questioning
glance toward each of them separately.
The one who turned away first, spoke first. “Were we being too loud?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“But, WHY?”
My daughter is usually not fond of figuring out ‘whys’…her
self-motivations often being a blindspot in her consciousness. ‘Why’ is a confusion point for her, and it
can either lead to a breakdown or (when we’re lucky) a redirection of energy
toward constructive, reasonable consideration for her environment and others in
it. I’ve been letting her know that it’s
okay that she doesn’t know…that she isn’t clear about what she’s doing. Because it helps her refocus, then, on who
she’s being. Since she was the one who
recently had this lesson, she spoke first (the first answer, after so many
questions).
“She was demonstrating how to do a drop kick.” Alyrica said with one of the most exhausted
expressions I’ve ever seen from her (aside from in sleepwalking stupors where
she couldn’t even form words but still tried to communicate with us).
The one who dropkicked, smirked.
“You shook the whole house.”
I told the Dropkicker. They all
laughed.
The one who instigated (as a mother can always tell the
instigator if she’s patient), spoke again…giggling. “Alright, no more drop kicking. Promise.”
I looked at the drop kicker, incredulously, and said
“Yes. Please, no more drop kicking. I can tell you’re physically tired…and she’s
mentally exhausted…and she, well, she’s the Energizer Bunny so I don’t know how
any of you are going to sleep tonight but at least two of you should.”
They all giggled.
“If somebody actually needs to fall asleep, please let
them.” I said to the Energizer Bunny.
She laughed and kicked her legs at not getting in trouble,
even while being called out. “Okay! Got it!
I can do that!”
“Still too loud. I
get that you’re all cranked up to 11…but take it down to a 2, okay? You have volume control abilities…you can
work on mastering them here tonight.”
Laughter ensued…and I couldn’t help but laugh myself. They started kicking each other and throwing
stuffed animals. “And no more
kicking. Calm your legs, ladies. Move your mouths if you have to…quietly…but
keep your legs quieter. Stop kicking
each other. And no more dropkicking
either. No injuries! I don’t care if you don’t sleep…you’re not
going to like the morning if you choose not to sleep, but that’s your
choice. Our cat, Zephyr will be
scratching at the doors sometime before 7am…that’s in about 5 hours…demanding
food from any hairless ape who can’t sleep through his shenanigans.”
They laughed again.
The physically tired one let out a whimper, knowing his antics would
wake her up.
“Don’t worry. He
usually chooses me as his target. He’ll
push through our door, jump right on me, walk heavily up me, put his butt near
my head for a moment, then walk around knocking things off my table before
traversing the headboard to the window and moving the curtain so the sunlight
pours in directly to my face. He won’t
even touch my husband…he knows he will sleep through anything. He knows I don’t sleep like the others.”
Hysterical laughter ensues throughout the retelling of this
daily rude awakening.
“Just know that he’ll try at this door too. So keep it closed. And don’t let any cat in when you leave to go
to the bathroom. You’ll regret it when
the distinct smell of cat butt steals your dreams away at sunrise.”
I closed the door on their laughter. It’s possible I could have wound things back
up, somewhat intentionally. But there’s
a chance that ‘the tireds’ will set in too after calling out the underlying
exhaustion of their shenanigans. I was
betting on both.
And as I finish this
retelling, I hear only ‘stage whispers’ coming through Alyrica’s door. I might be able to sleep through that. If not, I have a ‘pink noise’ track I use to
cancel out the sounds of my snoring husband.
