Illusions in the Night

The New Year is upon me and I am exhausted! My three-year-old has, of late, become disenchanted by false perceptions of scary things in his bedroom. And, for some reason, his natural instinct in these moments of extreme fear, is to come into our bedroom. And turn on the light. It is not easy to be patient and kind with the child at 3:24 am when the overhead bulb is blazing daggers into my sunken eyeballs.

As I am learning with excruciating pain, false perceptions are not easy to break. I have, a few times lately, laid down with him until he has fallen asleep. Which is a terrible idea for the record, since I end up falling asleep myself. Then, when I wake up to move to my own bed, suddenly find myself unable to sleep at all. Which may be due to the nap I just took from 7:30-9:00 pm. The other night I read an entire autobiography by a woman who escaped a polygamous cult. And it wasn't all that well-written.

It makes me think about what false perceptions have defined me--those things I have operated under or have been owned by. What monsters (or in J's case, dinosaurs) live in my closet? Probably most of them have to do with body dis morphia and the base value of monetary goods. My value as a wife or mother, based on my engagement with my children or the fact that I work outside of the home. I'm more confident at 30 than I was at 25, or even 27 when James was born. I love my job, but feel pressured at times to make the absolute most of the time I have with my kids, be it evenings or weekends. I wonder what it is that I do to overcompensate for these insecurities...and how the illusion of "what it should be like" will look when I am 40.