4am and insomnia wins and a Cicada joins the family.

It's 4 am and here I sit. I'm a stewer. I mull things over, beat them to death in my mind, generally I make myself sick over things. It's tedious and DM says I need to grow a thicker skin. Maybe so. I kind of like the skin i'm in. It's taken me a long time to get to that point. I am not sure I would like being in it if it were any different. Still it means I wear my heart on my sleeve and internalize everything and every problem searching for some way to understand it or searching for how I could have done better and still come out me on the other end.

I hate how sometimes reconciling all of that is impossible. I do the best I can with what I've got and pray someone somewhere will "get" me and not hold me against myself. I try to do that for others , sometimes it takes me some time, but I get there. FP can attest to that. He knows I am not going to bring up old hurts to beat him with at a later date and I don't hold grudges. I don't have the memory for it. So I spent much of the evening inside myself stewing. FP went to bed and I went to the livingroom to "watch tv" aka think. Mr. Literal comes over and doesn't sit next to me but on the end of the sofa and casts glances over at me now and again. He begins to talk to me but I don't hear him. I realize he is talking and give him a questioning glance, he patiently repeats himself with no thought to my not listening to him in the first place, he just quietly gives me another shot. Then he asks me if I would like him to get me anything. My 11 yr old son wants to tend to me. Can he see me hurting ? I try very hard to be "normal" when I am upset. I just generally " check out" when I am focused on something.

The simple gesture touches me. He wants to be with me, he wants to talk to me. It won't always be this way but how did he know I needed that right now? We quietly each some cheese and crackers and grapes while the tv carries on. So often I worry about what others think, how they perceive me or my family, how my kids are going to grow up with me for a mom. So many things, I think most are universal for many people/moms. As I laid here in bed I began to wonder why I cared so much? Why does it matter if anyone but those who have chosen to be present in my lives, doesnt "get" me? Why does it matter how my thoughts or feelings are perceived when I know the intent and true feeling behind them? Then I hear DM in my head " It Doesn't, you're overthinking again"

Will I ever get to a point where I can say I know me and I am ok with who I turned out to be? Probably. Will I ever get to a point where I think I don't need improving? I hope not. I may not be where I want to be yet but I like where I am for now and I'll sip a Dr. Pepper and worry about the rest tomorrow.

Now for a change of pace. Miss Teenage Argumenative and I spent some time on the couch watching worthless tv shows tonight. It is funny that the older she gets the more she reminds me of myself at her age. Although she is smarter and far more mature than I ever was. As we blithely watched our show she noticed a buzzing sound and then we both shrieked as a Cicada rolled along the tile floor between us and the exit. Seemingly dead now we relaxed some. We looked at eachother as if determining which one of us was more deserving of bug detail. *instert suspense music here* It was silently decided that neither of us deserved such a task and I moved to go wake FP. It was then that the Cicada proved it was just pretending and ambushed MTW (miss teenage WIMPY) and myself with a barrage of buzzing and flying ( albeit not very well) that proved our previous shriek was not at all what it seemed. Now we both screamed and she hid under the pillows ( coward) and I ran off down the hall with a renewed resolve to get my white knight out of bed to save us from certain death.

He was awake due to previous screaming and said " cicada?" I hopped on the bed , lest it had followed me into the bedroom. ( as if a flying bug would ever have need to grab my ankles) . I said " yes! will you come kill it? " He rolls over and says " Have MTA get it." !!!!!!!!!!!! I proceed to tell him that MTA is my current screaming partner and that was impossible and he comes up with the brilliant plan to have Mr. Literal get the bug. Now under normal circumstances my 11yros would be happy to wrangle a bug for me but the problem was the GIANT villan was between us and Mr. Literal's bedroom. Now to me that poses a giant problem. FP went back to sleep. ( My Hero). So I bring out a bath towel with the intent to trap it underneath the towel and eventually shoo it outside again.

I had MTA the towel because she was closest to the evildoer ( NOT because I was scared. ) She moved to stand , I presume in order to trap the little bastage, but it played yet another trick on us and commenced buzzing and flying around. I made a quick exit and trusted MTA to do the towel thing. And as far as I am aware, she did and it sits under a blue bath towel in the livingroom. I am content to leave it there until morning. I wonder if I can train my dogs to eat Cicada's. I see a web search in my future.

So MTA and I go to bed and I'll worry about it tomorrow.

It was nice to step outside my own concerns and share a moment or two with those who mean the most to me.

Until next time.
MFAU

ps. remind me to tell you of our flip flop dilemma and our love affair with Dutch babies.