Pillars

Tonight I reverted back to my infancy.

Though I can be very expressive, the life of the party, the hyper, crazy, bubbly one of the group, I have always been something of a homebody. I like to be at home. I like to sleep in my own bed with my own pillow. In college I traveled a lot and got used to sleeping in random peoples’ homes and in hotels. But since I have graduated it’s gotten to the point where I really have a difficult time sleeping anywhere but at home in my own bed.

After a long and busy work week, I often find that I will spend my entire Saturday at home, most of the time alone, cleaning, watching movies, reading, whatever really…but at home.

This homebody syndrome I believe is the product of my early childhood (it certainly has nothing to do with the fact that I moved around a lot growing up……..). When I was born I caught a cold at the hospital that nearly claimed my life. My doctor instructed my mother that she was to keep me at home and was not to leave me with anyone else, or I would die. So, Momma stayed home with me until I was recovered, missing her own sister’s wedding for my health’s sake.

As I grew and became stronger and healthier, I had developed a habit of always sleeping in my bed. I didn’t like to be rocked to sleep or held, I wanted my bed. And when I wanted my bed, I had to have my bed.

As a young couple, naturally my parents enjoyed hanging out with their friends and enjoying some chill time with people their age (though I think they called it “fellowship”). Several of their married friends had children my sister’s and my age, so they were all kind of in the same boat: young with a couple of young children. So after church and on the weekends they enjoyed spending time together…except that, well, I liked to sleep in my bed. So the whole after church going out to eat thing, yeah, I wasn’t a fan. I would scream the entire time we were in a restaurant. It got to the point that my parents would hire a sitter to take me home so they could go out.

I’m telling you all of this from the information my mother has given me time and again… I was such a perfect child. ;)

So, I blame my homebody syndrome on my infancy. I want my bed. My pillow. And apparently sometimes I just need the security of knowing my parents are there.

When I was growing up, my mom used to babysit several toddlers in our home. One in particular, Nathaniel, used to stand at the front window and cry for about the first thirty minutes after his mother dropped him off.

Many children endure separation anxiety, but they tend to grow out of it rather quickly, especially if they are repeatedly left at daycare or with a babysitter.

I guess I still have a little bit of a two year old somewhere buried deep inside.

My parents flew in tonight from Arizona and planned to stay the night with us. After two weeks of hard work and little sleep, Daddy decided he wanted a real bed (who wouldn’t want to sleep on a sleeping bag in my living room floor??), so they went to a hotel. I happened to be on the phone when they left, so I said a hurried goodbye to them. When I walked back out to the living room a few minutes later, they had gone and the lights were out. Tears overflowed my eyes and I started to panic. Mind you, I have absolutely no idea why this troubled me so much. I just knew Momma and Daddy were gone and I wished they weren’t.

After two phone calls and some more tears, I still don’t know what triggered the two-year-old Danielle. But, it’s almost nice to be reminded of how much I love my parents and how much I enjoy being around them. They are the pillars without which I could not stand. They have always been my biggest fans, always my strongest supporters, always my fiercest protectors. And I love them. More than these words, or any others could ever express.