Sleep deprived ponderngs about sons and mothers

Christopher at the beach in spring

I have decided that sleep deprivation is something mothers deal with all their lives, beginning the first night after a child is born and continuing until... who knows. My own mother stayed up worrying about her children after they were grandparents. Sigh...

Christopher was again on campus late studying for a big test, calling me around Midnight to stay on the phone until he reached the car. Under different circumstances that would seem a rather strange thing to stay up for with a young man who will soon turn twenty.

However, there have been multiple armed robberies, numerous assaults, and a couple shootings on and near campus this semester. Except for the occasional assault, such things were unheard of until recently... and those past assaults usually had a lot to do with excess alcohol and parties.

The car was parked away from campus, behind a building, and near a dark alley, which causes even a six foot tall guy to be uneasy. (Instead of fencing this year, he is taking martial arts classes once a week. A wise decision.)

Once I knew he was on his way home, I brewed both of us Lipton's Bedtime Story herbal tea. I poured his in the slightly heavy porcelain mug with matching lid that Stephanie bought me when she was in college. It keeps tea nice and hot.

It must be that sleep deprivation was the reason I walked in the living room this morning after the alarm went off at 6:15 and stood in front of the sofa (in the dark) wondering why there was no black and white ball of fur waiting for me... it took a few seconds to remember.

I woke Christopher up with the words... "I am too old to get six hours of sleep or less two nights in a row". That is far better than, "Your mother is losing her mind".

Other than lack of sleep and remembering what it is like living with two melancholic men, I've enjoyed having Christopher home again this semester. One evening he plopped on the dark green swivel chair in the living room with his laptop, asking me what I knew about Frankie Schaeffer. I told him all I could remember, including the op-ed piece Os Guinness wrote to refute Frankie's latest book where he made such scathing remarks about his parents.

It seems the latest d.i.g.g. (sp?) headlines that day were all about statements Frankie had made in an interview, which he had me listen to for a few minutes. He was wondering if what he said about his parents (Edith and Francis Schaeffer) were true.

Once again, I shared with him my opinion on how the youngest of the Schaeffer kids could not only stray so far from the faith but become such an outspoken critic of evangelical Christianity and all things conservative.

Since he struggles with his own doubts... not about Christ but the Church... it was a great opening for discussing the good, the bad, and the ugly... about Humanity. As we do so often, we both had computers open with dueling Google searches. I missed that when he lived in town. :)

I always told Stephanie when she was growing up that I was raising my own best friend. That has proven itself true when we get together a couple times a year and have such fun as well as cell phone calls which continue conversations as if they had just happened instead of a week having passed.

How lovely to have another human being who shares the same passions about life and books and decorating and cooking and... well, you understand... as well as a shared history. (My poor son-in-law, he is long suffering, a special crown in Heaven must await him someday.) I always remind Christopher when he is interested in a young lady to look at her mother for that is most likely whom she may be like as she grows older. Thankfully my son-in-law's mother forgot to tell him about that. But I digress...

What surprised me was the same thing happening... in a slightly different way... with my boy. Most likely a result from years and years of homeschooling, he enjoys talking about books and ideas with me. I always call good homeschooling one continuous conversation.

Sometimes we don't agree (he can't stand Glenn Beck), other times he knows me too well (as in telling me I'd enjoy the latest X-men movie because I can watch Wolverine for two hours), then there are subjects in which he'd rather talk to his father or sister or brother-in-law. I don't know why most of them involve math or logic.

I am looking forward to the day I have a sweet daughter-in-law but I'm also hoping to receive a phone call which begins, "Mom, what did you think of...?".

Sigh... I need a nap.