I woke up this morning from a deep sleep, rubbing the dreams of skin tight jeans and dark yellow urine (I am not sure how they are related, but they are the images stuck in my mind) from my sleep clouded eyes. The light peeping through the side of the dark mauve block-out curtain that covered the double paned glass told me that it was morning,and the sound of Mr. A creeping into the darkened bedroom suggested that it was not yet eight o’clock.
I do not recall if Master X has awoken as yet.
I stretch my arms out in front of me, arching my back slowly like a cat who has been curled up on the end of the couch for many hours, leisurely and gracefully. A feeling of deep fulfilment comes over me as I dwell on the beautiful sleep state that I was just in, and the sleep particles that still dusted my brain, glittering the day ahead like sprinkles on cupcakes.
Yes, it was nice waking up to quiet rather than the wingeing emanating from Master X’s bedroom as I had become accustomed to.
Mr. A leaned over the edge of the bed closest to the window – his side of the bed- and kissed me goodbye, assuring me that Master X is still asleep in the next room. Sweet nothings of love and the day possibilities passed our lips as the moment of goodbye passed, too quickly, too suddenly, and he was on his way out the door for work.
It was going to be a good day. The residual feeling that I had from my sleep indicated as such.
And then my feet hit the floor.
I was not skinny nor carefree. Although we had done most of the cooking yesterday and the subsequent cleaning up, I still felt lilted. Tired. A sense of urgency to clean all the things rushed towards me like a tidal wave of guilt. Cleaning all the things.
And as I made my way out of the bedroom the guilt continued to grow as I though of all the tasks that should be done today. The weight became heavier and heavier. Where did the feeling of elation go? That carefree glow that adorned my being not five minutes ago? Is this reality? Is this what life should feel like? Is this the lid that my doctor talked about- the evening out of my emotions into…. normal?
I make my way into the kitchen to pour some cereal and heat up the coffee. I gaze around the clean space, marvelling at how much work Mr. A and I achieved in only a couple of hours yesterday. Stewed fruit, sweet bean and veggie puree, veggie puree, beef and veggie puree, dinner and dessert for the adults! There is no reason to feel down, I know, we have everything that we need, and more. So why this feeling? Why this guilt?
I push through the haze and decided to eat my breakfast out on the deck (again, privileged) in the sun. I can hear Master X begin to wake. Gurgling to himself as he kicks the bottom of the cot. I leave him for a few moments – no-one likes to be started and jostled when they first wake up- and finish my breakfast.
Yes, there are many things that I could be doing, but who is standing here saying that I should be doing them? I only have a couple of months left of maternity leave, and that is to recover. So I should enjoy them and recover. Because this time will not come again. And although the sleep state now seems far away, that feeling is addictive, just as alluring as the guilt state. And I choose it today. The right, possibility, joy and love of the dream state.
Wish me luck.