I’m fast asleep Sunday morning, engrossed in a weird dream about my senior high school prom when I feel a bony knee dig into the middle of my back. My eyes pop open to reality which comprises a face full of dog and back full of Noah, both intent on making a Sleeping Mom sandwich. Alas it is not to be because Sleeping Mom is now Awake and Cranky Mom. The dog can stay; but Noah must go.
There comes a time in your child’s life when it is not considered cruel to kick them out of your bed. The age varies by family but Noah reached this milestone about two years ago, due to his squirminess and inability to let me sleep. Still, he often waits for Dave to vacate the bed in the morning at which points he makes his move, crawling in, snuggling up tight next to me, and engaging in overt tactics to wake me up. On Sunday he used conversation as his weapon of choice:
“Good morning Mom! Mmm. Mom, you smell like bacon. Have you been eating bacon this morning?”
The answer was, of course, no. But I knew what he smelled as I was still a bit smoky from the night before when we went to our friends’ annual bonfire. I spent the cool evening beside a warm fire with a glass of red wine that was always half full. I was in the company of good friends with whom I rarely converse at length. From time to time, Dave would appear amidst the glow at which point we would both admit we had no idea where our children were. Yet, in no time they would race by with their buddies, like a pack of wolves in hot pursuit of some unfortunate prey and disappear into the darkness.
“Was that them?” I’d ask to which Dave would confidently reply, “Quite possibly.”
And we would both return to our beverages, chili, and respective conversations.
At some point that evening as I was curled up by the bonfire, watching the flames grow, feeling all warm, and knowing that it close to freezing just two feet away, I declared to myself that this was My Happy Place. You know, the place you go to when you need to relax, usually in your mind but if you’re lucky in reality every now and then. It is a state when your physical and mental being is at complete peace, a place you don’t want to leave too soon.
The Happy Place seems reserved for adulthood probably because we need it more. Too often we find ourselves somewhere we don’t want to be doing something we don’t want to do or feeling some way we don’t want to feel. It is then that we can go The Happy Place, if only for a while, if only in our minds. It is somewhere we can be completely self-absorbed, self-centered and selfish without feeling self-loathing.
As I lay in bed Sunday morning ready to boot Noah from my room so I could have 5 more minutes of pseudo-sleep, I thought twice. I found my Happy Place last night. Noah found his that morning… on his father’s side of the bed… with his mom who smells like bacon. And I snuggled in for just a bit longer.
