Do We Really Want What We Think We Want? Really???

Lately, my three-year old has developed this habit of getting up at 5:40 a.m. on the dot. He has been doing this for three years, but saying lately makes me feel like this is some seasonal occurrence that will eventually come to an end. To triumph over tiny feet that will no doubt come tiptoeing in my room each morning with demands of cartoons, soy milk and sunshine, I have even resorted to adding that he will sleep an extra twenty minutes to our nightly prayers. Somewhere between pleas for world peace and a California budget I now find myself asking for just a little more shuteye and this morning I finally got it. For some reason my son opted to sleep in, and even with my three-foot alarm clock resting serenely in his room, I still woke up anyway. No amount of counted sheep or eyes squeezed shut could usher me back to dreamland. Thirty minutes passed and another thirty and another. The anxiety of holding back the start of the day started to weigh on me. I even began to think maybe something is wrong. Maybe he wants to get out of bed, but his stuffed toys, remote control cars and strategically crafted Lego creations have buried him under a pile of Disney disaster. I rushed into his room and ripped the covers from his toy story tailored body. His back rose up and down in a steady rhythm assuring me that he was at least breathing. But it’s been three years. Every day and even on weekends as predictable as the world time clock he strikes at 5:40. Why today? Why is he still asleep? “Wake up son!” It’s morning. C’mon, it’s wake up time.” Something must be wrong. Between gritted teeth, a drooled stained cheek and crust coated eyes, my time keeping toddler finally managed to groan: “go back to sleep Mommy. The milk is in the fridge.” As I sat alone watching an episode of his favorite Handy Manny cartoon, I couldn’t help but think--Really???  So do we really want the things we think we do? Can we handle our wishes once they're granted? Sometimes we get so used to the steady beat of our own madness that we miss the moment when the reprieve appears. Thank God for second chances. Crossing fingers for one tomorrow morning.  Really!!!