I am SO tired this morning.

Last week I was inwardly bemoaning that I kinda miss the bedtime routine I used to have with my boy.  Now that he’s fifteen, bedtime usually consists of me saying “would you shut down that bloody computer, turn off your cell phone, turn off the t.v. and get some sleep!”.    Actually, I’ve been trying to instill a 10 p.m. no-electronics curfew, but that gets to be quite the battle sometimes.

Anyway, the boy is sick.  Again.  He’s been sick a lot since school started and it’s a bit of a worry.

Last night I had an opportunity to revisit our old bedtime routine with a back-rub, ‘third-eye’ massage, essential oils and all those things I used to do when he was younger and couldn’t get to sleep.

And when the fever woke him up at 2 a.m., I talked him down from his delirium until the ibuprofen did it’s job and knocked the fever back down again.

This morning I’m remembering what it was like to be a sleep-deprived mom.   I’m slightly delirious myself this morning.

But I’m feeling really grateful that we have an emotional ‘touchstone’ that can soothe even a grumpy, sick teen.  He’ll likely bounce back from this bug relatively quickly, and our bedtime routine will likely revert to one more typical for this stage of our parent/teen relationship.

It’s an interesting stage we’re both in, this mom-I-need-you / ya-ya-go-away push/pull stage.

Not sure if I’m making much sense in this post and am starting to wonder why I’m even sharing these somewhat delirious ramblings.

But I have the sense that a few other parents out there relate.

I guess one of the things I’m learning in life is that even in the painful, uncomfortable moments of life there are unexpected gifts.

And that at this stage of my life, I really need a good night’s sleep.