My husband and I have come to the conclusion that we’re no longer youngsters. I realized it sooner than he did, but he’s finally coming around.

For me, the acknowledgement came about a year ago, when I tried to show my daughter how to do a back bend. It had been awhile, so I had enough sense not to go over backward. Instead, I positioned myself on the carpet, put my hands over my shoulders and palms on the floor, and PUUUUUUUSHED up. I held that position for all of two seconds, before I came crashing down on my back, having pulled every muscle between my tailbone and skull. What? When did that happen? Since when couldn’t I do a backbend? It just couldn’t be true. So, to prove to myself that I “still had it”, I tried a headstand, handstand, and the splits. No luck. The best I could muster was a forward roll, and even that hurt my neck. I didn’t “have” anything. I lost it all somewhere along the way.

Shortly after that, I noticed runners my age wearing knee braces. And, my friends started having surgeries for herniated discs, ACL injuries, and torn rotator cuffs. I realized this was serious. This was real. There would be no more messing around with this body of antiquity. I began lifting heavy objects while bending at the knee. I started stretching before AND after I ran, and wearing a wrap on my thrice broken ankle. And, though I often still run up the stairs two at a time, I hold on to the handrail when I do it.

But, through it all, my husband has been in denial. We bought a home gym and he believed he could lift the same amount of weight he did in college. When he couldn’t, he blamed it on inaccurate calibration, not his aging muscles. When he almost blacked out on a roller coaster, he claimed it was the G Forces, not his degenerating inner ear. And, when we went camping a few weeks ago, he and his friend (you may refer to them as The Lost Boys), had delusions of playing basketball and sand volleyball all weekend. Turns out, they mostly drank beer and ate S’mores.

But alas, my husband has seen the light. Stars, in fact. Because when he took our daughter to a water park last weekend, she wanted to see her whippersnapper of a Dad dive off the platform board. He climbed up the ladder and dove off, just as she had requested. Only, when he came out of the water, he didn’t see her proud face. He saw little white floating dots and strings. Big, strong Daddy got his bell rung. And, last night, he FINALLY said, “I guess I’m not 21 anymore.”

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My insomnia is back. Not only back, but with a vengeance. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in quite awhile. In the past two weeks, I have increased my dosage of Melatonin, secretly snuck a couple of sleeping pills that I’m not supposed to take anymore, seen my family doctor, and had an EKG and echocardiogram. I AM TRYING to figure this out.

It’s understandable, that to a non-insomniac, saying I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in awhile would imply that I toss and turn. But, NOOOOO. It is not so cut and dry. Of course, there are nights when I have something serious on my mind and toss around because of it. But, more often than not, I lie awake because I have a song stuck in my head (thank you to Barney and The Little Einsteins for that), or because there’s the slightest bit of breeze from the fan, or because the dog moved and woke me up. As a matter of fact, if ANYTHING wakes me, I don’t go back to sleep. Though, I would be thrilled to have that type of insomnia right now…the kind where I can’t go back to sleep. At least I would have a fighting chance to get some rest. As long as Mars is at the highest point in the sky, the Moon is full, the wind is SE at 12.2 miles per hour, and our windows are closed.

See, lately I can’t be so lucky as to actually get to the point of having something wake me. The insomnia I’ve had the past couple of weeks, has been the kind where I just can’t fall asleep AT ALL. Where I do everything I know of, but the last time I look at the clock it is inevitably after 5:00 AM. It’s torture. It’s maddening. It’s like I need the United Nations in my bedroom to help me fight this thing.

Trust me, I wouldn’t trade all the sleep in the world for my two kids, but this is one thing I can, with near certainty, blame on them. It started with the pregnancy hormones, which not only left me sleepless, but once made me LEAVE WORK in the middle of the afternoon to come home and make an enormous pot of macaroni and cheese. Then, because our daughter spent five weeks in intensive care, every sound during the night was sure to be the hospital calling (it never was). After that, came toddler nightmares, and sickness which ALWAYS seems to manifest itself in the wee hours. Then another premature baby, this one with stomach, eye AND heart problems. I have now become a worrier of mass proportions. I agonize about everything. Everything. What do I need to put on the grocery list? Did I remember to put that permission slip in my daughter’s folder? Will it rain tomorrow? Should I really let my daughter buy a hot dog for lunch? Will my son have to poop while he’s at school? Who cares? Apparently, I do.

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A conversation with my son…

I ask, “What are your favorite foods?”

He says, “I like cauliflower and broccoli. Yum!”

I ask, “Then, what are your least favorite foods?”

With a scrunched up, icky look on his face, he replies, “Vegetables.”

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Last night, my husband and I had the good fortune to have dinner with Bill Beausay, author and clinical psychotherapist. Bill is a down-to-earth, easily approachable guy who is passionate about helping all of us help our kids. He has written quite a few books on the subject and had a lot of great advice. Here’s what I learned from Bill…

1. Your kids are not entitled to “things”. If your 15 year old wants a cell phone (iPod, laptop, etc.) because everyone else has one, tell him to go out and earn money to pay for it. Entitlement = Disservice

2. Don’t let your kid boss you around. When your toddler is screaming for a treat at the grocery store, DO NOT give in. This goes back to #1…make them earn it. And, just because a red face, stomping feet, and tears take a lot of effort, that doesn’t count as earning it.

3. Talk to your kids openly and honestly, and don’t wait to do it. I asked Bill about concerns I have for when our daughter starts high school in six years, and he said to start talking to her about those things NOW.

4. Spend time with your children. Watching American Idol together does not fill this requirement.

5. Faith is an important factor in raising a child. I was glad to hear this, as I have open conversations with God every day. Sometimes, that means praying together with the kids, but often, I’m just asking for mental strength to make it until bedtime.

6. Show your children you care. Hug them, kiss them, tell them you love them. They’re never too old to stop either. It makes your kids aware that you’re there for them…always.

No one ever tells you how scary and fragile this parenting thing can be, so it was good to find out we’re doing everything right…so far. And, even if we do everything right, there’s still a chance things can go wrong…

In the end, I think what’s most important is being present for your kids. Physically and mentally present. I think I’ll go hug mine now.

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