The Witching Hour

It's 3 AM. Again. Whenever I can't sleep in the middle of the night, it's 3 AM. Might as well get a blog post in. It used to be that I was convinced that there was some deep spiritual significance to this time - that God was waking me up for something urgent and I needed to listen - a la Samuel. But nothing much has happened when I have responded like Samuel over the years, and I accept that it probably has more to do with my circadian rhythm patterns than anything else. Still, there is some sense of expectation when I get up at this time. Since I haven't been praying much during this self-imposed break from church, I've had more exotic responses at this hour.

For instance, during the summer, I had a phase when I would pop in my Lady Gaga CD, crank up the DVD player (in lieu of a stereo) as loud as I dared, and dance around. I mean seriously dance. And I would go through both CDs of my 2 CD volume, prance around with gusto until my calves could bear no more and sweat would pour off of my face. As I gyrated wildly about, I'd fear the presence of a lurking burglar in the back yard - not from fear of safety, but from fear of discovery or having a witness to my bizarro behavior. Why I found dancing to Lady Gaga at 3 AM satisfying, I don't know. But in the same way that Jane, my cat, and I bonded over my late night wanderings, I have become enormously fond of Lady Gaga. Her tunes are catchy and make for good dancing, even at 3 o'clock in the morning. I would expend enough energy to get me back to bed. And as crazy as dancing at 3AM is, it's certainly not as strange as wearing a meat dress to the grammys. Oh Gaga. What a crazy life you lead. I mean, look at what you call yourself. Although I'm more than a little jealous that you have so much passion and focus at such a young age. But I imagine that you're not all that well-adjusted.

However, I've grown out of that Gaga stage and my mind is occupied with why I'm up. I think it has something to do with Sinjin's 2nd birthday. The day before his birthday, I was feeling a little funky. I think it had to do with the mess of the whole extended family situation and me feeling a little sad that I can't make that part of his life idyllic. And in all likelihood, I probably won't ever be providing him with a sibling. So I'm a little eaten up by mom guilt (which I have to say is pretty rare, all things considered). But he's a pretty happy kid and is inclined to be happier than I naturally am, which I'm immensely glad about. And I tell myself that he has a pretty solid life, if placed in a historical or global context. But it must be small comfort at 3 AM because I am still wide awake.