I took a hiatus from writing. Life happens. I finished my degree, and writing was not high on my priority list after completing my dissertation. But, writing is in my blood. It’s how I cope with life’s unplanned events.
A few days ago, my grandmother, the prince, and I headed to the mountains for a brief stay. My prince has always loved to travel; I started him early. We are “on the go” people, and life didn’t stop when my little prince arrived. He rolls his luggage, requests music from the back seat, and enjoys looking at the surroundings.
The traveling part is easy. The hotel/spending the night part is more of a challenge.
I walked into our rented condo and stared out at the mountains. The view was tranquil. Lights dotted the mountain before me. A gigantic cross peaked out from the mist. Stress started melting away. When I thought I had conquered a moment of stress-free bliss, a wet, stuffed snake’s tail hit me on the head. There it was…my reality.
Sometimes, my prince causes me to have flashbacks to the movie Independence Day…you know the part where the aliens speak “No Peace” in a raspy voice. I should get that on a t-shirt.
Picture it. You sit down after a long day at work to enjoy a Diet Coke and the latest episode of NCIS. Your child is settled in the playroom with his favorite movie, a drink, and a stuffed snake; all of the things to make him happy. Something major just happened, and NCIS has its first freeze-frame showing Gibb’s stoic face. Then, you feel the poking. He wants a different movie. He’s lost his ball behind the toy bins. He isn’t happy with his drink. This routine happens every 15 minutes with either you or the King. No peace.
You are actually cooking dinner and enjoying it, because it happens so rarely. From behind, you get bombarded by every ball the prince owns as if you are in a vicious game of dodge ball and didn’t know it. No peace.
Why should I expect anything different on this trip? Our condo had two bedrooms. One with a queen bed; one with a king bed. I looked at the jacuzzi. I looked at my huge bed. And, I thought to myself in a Gollum voice, “The precious! My prince will surely want to spend time with his great-grandmother. This is all mine—mine I tell you!” The snake’s tail again brought me back to reality. After having a child (an only child to be specific), is anything really yours anymore? For those who have followed my blog, it’s no secret our little prince is an only child. (Perhaps the “No Peace” motto is why.) Nevertheless, being an only child has perks. And, my little prince enjoys his slice of royalty. In a hotel (or condo in this case), he calls dibs on the bed. A fold out bed will work in a pinch, but you are crazy to think an air mattress will work when a bed is readily available. Snoring is out. If you snore, sleep on the balcony or prepare to be receive the evil eye all night. In his defense, he slept like an angel with his great-grandmother until 2am. Then, he came to cause havoc on his mother for the duration of the trip (2.5 nights).
My king bed had a memory foam mattress, which heated up like a Crock Pot on a slow setting. By morning, I was done. And, the prince didn’t help. He tossed. He turned. He would randomly kiss me when I was sound asleep. By morning, I was hot and reduced to a mere corner of the king-sized bed. Why? Caden was laying perpendicular with his feet in my face. And, friends, wherever my prince takes his feet, rest assured, peace will not follow. He pushed. He kicked. He flopped. He wanted me to hold them. He wanted me to stop holding them. He wanted me to rub them. He wanted me to stop rubbing them. This went on for hours. Meanwhile, my grandmother slept peacefully in the other room. At 4am on the day of our departure, I marched the prince to my grandmother’s room and proclaimed, “Your turn. I need some sleep to drive us home.” I stumbled back to the bed and laid down. It was still hot. I couldn’t hear a sound. His feet weren’t in my face. And, I missed him.
I can’t remember a peaceful life. I know I had one—I think I did. I guess I wouldn’t trade those moments of no peace. I get frustrated. I get tired. I get overwhelmed. But, I am one lucky mom. I’ve learned to pick up those balls tossed at me while cooking and throw them back. That moment of no peace brings immense laughter. Switching DVDs is tiring at night. But, we have a DVR. I can pause anytime. Gibbs can wait a moment, because my mostly non-verbal prince has something important to say. The snake tails—I’m not a fan. But, they do get my attention. And, those feet—well, there’s never any peace with them. But, those are the feet I played with when I held him as a baby. Those feet have become strong. He uses them to dance, run, jump, and frustrate me when sleeping with him. He will go far with those sweet feet. So, I will live with no peace for a while longer and continue to explore new lands with my little prince. Peace is very boring anyway.