I let myself get upset tonight

I asked for a favor from my husband and I guess he mistook it for a joke.  Instead of the massage I asked for, he took his sleeping pill and went to sleep.  Now I'm disappointed and kinda pissed and I can't go to sleep. 


I listened to music to meditate.  I listened to a couple of books to relax.  I knitted.  I just can't go to sleep because I'm upset.   I figure if I get it off my chest, I might be able to relax and sleep.  I'm half tempted to turn on a light and do something else like read a book or go back to knitting.  All I really want to do is sleep. 


Oh, when I laid down with my meditation music, I went to my happy place.  It's a cabin, not necessarily in the woods, maybe it backs up to a greenbelt somewhere.  So I started planning it's construction which could keep me awake.  My bedroom looks over an infinity edge pool with a stacked rock wall.  The pergola at one end of the pool deck is visible from the living room.   The field stone fireplace is the focal point of the great room with 2 recliners, a long couch and a day bed around storage ottomans.


Stepping up to the front door you can look around the left side of the house to see a covered porch that wraps all the way around to the pool deck. Entering the front door the kitchen is off to the right.  It's 2 walls of cabinets and appliances with a low island surrounded by stools.  Dark wood cabinets topped with stainless steel tops, oiled iron knobs and handles.  To the right of the door is landing pad, a bin for the mail, hooks for keys and coats, baskets for gloves, hats and scarves just wide enough to have a cubby for each of us. The wall beyond is windows, turns a corer to the left and leads off to my suite.  Under those widows are bookshelves with window seat cushions across the top.


The far wall is the fireplace.  Centered on the fireplace is a grouping of furniture.  Past the furniture on the right is a farmers table with assorted chairs, stools and benches around it.  The table is centered on a built in hutch between a door to the garage and a powder room.  In the corner between the powder room and fireplace is an entrance to my work room.  A wall of bookshelves and a center work table are visible through the door way. I keep the French doors open unless I'm blasting 80's pop.  To the left of the fireplace is the first flight of stairs which wrap around the back of the fireplace.   Passing the staircase a turn to the left then the right leads back to my suite. Another set of French doors stands open against the rails of the staircase on the right and windows on the left.  A log bed is visible through the doors.  At the foot of the bed is 2 chests with cushion tops. Past the bed is a chaise lounge and a floor lamp tucked in the corner opposite the entry.  They don't block the view of the pool since that whole wall is French doors again. The room is a southern exposure so heat reducing curtains are available but the wrap around porch keeps most of the direct sun out of the room.   The suite includes a panic room/closet and a full bath.  Upstairs from it is another master suite matching the floor plan below but is my husband's studio.  Above the kitchen and living room is a bedroom full of bookshelves filled with rocks on display.  Above my workroom and the garage is another bedroom with 2 bathrooms and closets making up the full north east corner.  A planned elevator shaft off my work room is being used for a 2nd washer.  A place to wash my quilting materials then press them dry. There's a hallway to the master bath and back mudroom there too. 


oh a wave of the dizzies just hit me.  Exhaustion is setting in.  I'll go dream of furniture after a bite to eat just in case the dizzies are low blood sugar. 

Lesson I haven't taught my younger sons...yet

When I was a kid, I either lived, with my mom and my sister on our own, or we lived with my mother's parents.  In either home we learned one important thing, DON'T WAKE THE ADULTS.  At my grandparent's home it was understood that if you woke up Grandpa he would hit something.  It's not that he would seek out someone to hit, he had PTSD and would immediately strike out when startled.  Being awakened by little girl calling your name or touching you in this frame of mind is startling.  Standing next to the same girl in her teen age years while she's chopping carrots does the same thing.  Grandpa didn't often hit one of us because we were far enough away when waking him or startling him but that extra hard carrot left a bruise on my chest for a couple of weeks.   In my Grandma's case, waking her up from her nap meant it was time to do chores, homework or yard work.   I would rather sit in the air conditioned house and read, crochet, knit, sew or embroider than do any kind of work.  So I learned to be quiet, as did my mother before me. 


When we gals were on our own, my mother was often in her sick bed.  She would be sleeping through a batch of depression or trying to lay still while her anxiety caused her digestive system to roil and cramp like she had a batch of angry critters with spikes and claws in her tummy.  I have the same anxiety induced tummy troubles, sometimes brought on by bad food choices.   Being quiet and self sufficient was necessary for our own mental health.  Like at her parent's "you wake the momma,  you do work!" Most often, we would have to clean our room, occasionally it was another room, generally the bathroom.  While we were quiet, I was in charge.  I could let that go to my head occasionally but my sister was a loud complainer so I did my best to let her do her thing while I did mine. 


Fast forward 33 years.  My 15 year old boy is a lot like me and his younger brother is a loud complainer just like my sister.  The difference is, Mr. Teen isn't worried about waking his parents at 7 in the morning on a Saturday or holiday Monday by torturing his brother.  In fact he's not scared of insulting his younger brother in front of us either.  His un-medicated ADHD brain just has to say what is on his mind when it occurs to him.  I did that too but not where I would get in trouble for it, ever.  I had to be good or my mother would be bed ridden for days in the aftermath.  It was my mother that inflicted lots of verbal abuse during my childhood so now Mr. Teen is the worst of 2 people.  


So today, I have a sleep machine malfunction and I'm not sleeping heavily like usual.  I get up and run Mr. Teen off.  Three hours later I've taken over my husband's sleep machine and Hubby has gone outside leaving the boys unsupervised in the house to bicker.  That's when it hits me.  I need to be more like my mother.  When I'm awakened by these boys they should have to clean.  I may not have the energy to enforce this all the time but maybe it will sink in sometime before Mr. Teen leaves for college.  We can hope. 


There's something else we could do.  One of us could get up when we hear the first one stirring, or we could just get up long enough to medicate them then wait for it to kick in before returning to peace and quiet.  But, that requires feeding the boys and keeping them separate until the medication kicks in and that early in the morning, I can barely sit upright without feeling like I'm going to hurl.  So I'm going start a new thing.  However many times I have texted you to be quiet is the number of chores a kid will do later in the day.  My husband is going to hate this.