What if your bed was round?

Remember the old adage, "I got up on the wrong side of the bed?"  So, I pose:  what if you consciously make your bed round??


You can probably guess where I'm going with this as it's the New Year, and 2015 calls for reflection and visions of new goals/perspectives as any switch from December to January tends to do.  I thought about this concept, this circular mattress idea of sorts, just this morning when I arose from my bed.  It was a rough night sleep-wise.  For our non-scheduled 4-month old, he does generally well waking up just once during the night, getting a feed, then putting himself back to sleep until a more appropriate (mama-and-papa-appreciated) morning time.  Even Elliot has been letting us sleep way past 6:00 these days; so, last night as Mike and I are settling down around 9:00, heading up to read and get our own shut-eye, the little bugger puts on a wimpy little whimper, I bust down the door, interpret Ollie's mews as calls for nursing, pop him on/off the boobs as fast as I can and hop into our delicious flannel sheets.  I figure, "Yes!  I am amazing!  He will surely sleep now until 3:00 or 4:00 - maybe even all the way through!"


I get a solid 2 hours before I am awoken by Mike's snores/hap-hazard breathing as he's getting over his own cold, mixed with my attention span being roused as Oliver has in fact (and much to my glee), not woken up, but alas my mama-brain switches for the rest of the night to any inkling, any decibel on the monitor.  In fact O does wait until 4:30 to eat, to which I grumble internally, "Seriously, bro?!  Couldn't wait just 1 or 2 more hours at this point??"  Note:  it's really the flannel sheets I'm desperate to stay snuggled in.  They're outrageous, and I highly recommend a set if you don't have one.


Beyond fortunately, and I mean that, Oliver goes back to sleep after eating again in the wee hours, and I flutter my lids open to his grunts around 6:45.  To say all this and recognize in general how sweet I do have it, I also say this.  I did not want to get out of bed this morning.  Between 4:30 and 6:45 I had maybe 15 consecutive minutes of undisturbed dozing, with a majority of it stuck on the mama-brain phenomenon, and yes, Mike's god-awful state.  I mean, poor sickly husband, you.  :)  He's a deep enough sleeper, even with NyQuil in his system that I can gently (aggressively at times) nudge him and he'll unconsciously roll over and relieve my ears for a few minutes at a time.  So no, I was not ready to get out of bed.  I had fed the boy twice, knew I would have to wrestle him, Elle, and Winnie for their morning meals, and I really did want to give Mike the break his body needed, but I was just so.  damn.  tired.


Then it clicks.  Call it dumb luck.  But I think it was proper physical, chakra-oriented, introspective alignment the second my bare feet hit the proverbial cold wooden floor:  "I choose to get out of this bed happy, with purpose, and acceptance of today's adventures."  This sentence swishes between my ears so soundly, I didn't give it a second thought, and sure enough my spine stayed straight, I fixed about my hair in a quick ponytail, and marched on out of our room into the day.  My bed became round, and I didn't have to wake up on any other 'side' of it other than how I made it so.


The night's circumstances?  Garbage.  My attitude surpassing them?  It's an innate, human privilege that we should be so lucky to remember that we have:  and that is the power within ourselves to choose how to feel, and subsequently act within what we can control.  Happy New Year!  May all your future mattresses be round...