Raw Oats in Milk with Fruit and Honey

Tale of Freedom Part II
Part I

It was an ordinary night.

I was off in my bedroom being very quiet so that everyone would forget I was alive. My husband was on the floor in our bedroom doing whatever he does on the floor in our bedroom.  My kiddos were in the living room talking and giggling, or so I thought.

Actually, it was . . . .5  or so minutes before bedtime, and they were reading.

So what. Big deal.

Oh, it was a big deal, a very big deal.

One of my children using her mommydar, quickly finds me trying to be invisible, and says, “Mommy.  We were reading a book, and it has really freaky pictures in it.” She regales rather demandingly.

“Uh, ok” I say in my lowest voice possible because I’m still trying to be invisible. “So then, don’t read it.”

“Fine.” she pouts, as if she’s mad at invisible me, and then she retreats back into the living room.

6 minutes later.  She returns.  She literally steps over her father (who is not trying to be invisible) nearly kicks him in the face, and barrels over to my side.

“Mommy!” she half screams, half spits, “Those pictures are really crazy, and THEY ARE REALLY FREAKING ME OUT!!!”

“Well then my dear, STOP looking at them and STOP reading that book.” I think I am no longer invisible.

She just continues to look at me all mad and scrunchy faced.  I think she’s thinking this is my fault.  And that maybe I’m a horrible mother. Or maybe she’s trying to use her telepathic powers to make me uninvisible,( which would be for all intensive purposes visible) so that the freaky crazy pictures can come gnaw off my head.  I’m not sure, but in either case, I’m really not appreciating this mommy loathing look I’m getting as I try to lie quietly on my invisible sunny beach, with my invisible Bud Light Lime, in my non-invisible head.

As she’s staring me down, #2 walks onto my invisible beach looking rather mischievous.
I should have know something was up.

#2 flashes an evil grin.  She begins to saunter over to the corner of #1’s eye, right past the dressing table.

#1 not knowing what is going on, looks to her left, and then to her right.

#2 giggles to make her presence known, while lifting up a sizable picture book opened wide to FREAky PicTuRE page.

#1 looks said picture dead on with a face full of horror.

#2 crazy monster scream/chortles “I’m going to get you!  BWAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!”

And then all hell breaks loose, ending with number #1 glued to my side, in my bed, mumbling incoherently to herself, face full of tears, and apparently not ever willing to go to sleep.

Darn it. I think I have to leave my invisible beach.

I sit on my bed not saying anything, except the very quick muttled mommy holler of “YOU BETTER GO TO BED RIGHT NOW, OR YOUR REALLY GONE GET IT!!!” scream as I firmly place one hand on #1’s leg holding her steady, and rubbing her slightly.

She lays curled up, faced smashed into my new clean pillow, mumbling incoherently to herself. I say nothing.

20 minutes pass. And I think its enough.

“Okay, time to go bed! Want me to tuck you in?”

No dice.  She ain’t budging. I offer treasures, confections, $5 million dollar dowry. Nothing.

So then, I offer all the lame things my mother offered me when I didn’t want to go to sleep because 10 purple-eyed monsters were in my closet.

  • How about counting sheep?
  • A good round of the Rosary.
  • What about the Lord’s Prayer?
  • You could just wing it, and say whatever prayer you like.
  • You don’t even have to count sheep, you could count. . .nail polish bottles.

Honestly, I knew it wouldn’t work.

“Do you want me to sleep with you? ” I say in the absolute lowest voice possible.

Her eyes widen, a sudden look of relief fills her face and she whispers, “Yes.”

We make our way to the staircase, and I stop. I turn around and look her in the eyes.

“I don’t want you to be afraid because there is nothing to be afraid of.  Mommy and Daddy are not going to let anything happen to you.  And those pictures are only pictures. They don’t exist.  But. . . . I want you to understand that you don’t need me to fight your fears.  You are strong enough to do it on your own.  In life, we all come across things that we are frightened of.  But God ALWAYS gives us the power to take care of it on our own. He makes us strong.”

She looks at me like I am the biggest idiot she has ever seen.

“What I am trying to say is that, I will sleep with you, but you have to walk up the (dark creaky) stairs on your own.  And down the (dank, shadow lurking) hall to your bedroom on your own. But, I’ll be right behind you.”

She does as she’s bid, and I’m only 3 or 4 steps behind her at all times.

We make it to her room, slide into bed, and soon we’re off to see the Sand Man.

A few hours later I wake up, and I move to inch my way out of her bed and down to my own.

But the only problem is, that I’m not very graceful, and there is a crackle and a snap as I try to gingerly leave the bed, and her eyes POP wide open. I turn back around, and head back to her bed and she says, “Don’t worry Mommy. I’ll be okay.”

And just like that she’s free.

She can fight her own demons.  She realizes that within her lies the power to conquer her fears.

I walk back to my bed, super proud of the woman she’s becoming. I slip into my bed, curl up with my husband, and  fall back to sleep.

Until 1 hour later, I hear a death chortling scream, “MOOOOMMMMMMMYYYYYY!!!!”

And as I’m hurling myself up the stairs taking 3 at a time, I think, “Well, maybe she’s not TOTALLY free.  But free enough, because she has the will to try.”

I think that is a form of freedom in and of itself.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Want to know something I’m afraid of?


It scares the wageezers outta me.

You have to make it every single morning, in like 10 seconds flat.

It’s supposed to be good for you.

With lots of protein, vitamins, and energy boosting stuff.

That’s A LOT of pressure.

But, I’ve got this.  I’ll take your 10 seconds, and beat it by 5, and I’ll still have time to take a shower.

Take that you crazy fuzzy purple 10 eyed monsters.

Raw Oats in Milk with Fruit and Honey
adapted from The Nordic Diet
serves 1

1 cup Raw Oats (or ummm. . . .uncooked oatmeal)
3/4 cup milk
Honey or granulated sugar, to taste
1 cup of fruit, cut into bit size pieces

1. In a single size serving bowl, add oats. Cover with milk. Add honey to sweeten as desired. Top with fruit.

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