Worlds Collide

The Trifecta entering the sanctuary...

Remember, that one time on Seinfeld, when George worried that his two worlds were colliding?  Relationship George (the man who spends time with his wife) and Independent George (the George we know around Elaine, Jerry, and Kramer) clash when Elaine wants to get to know his wife.  He called it his, “Worlds Collide Theory.”  It’s one of my favorite episodes because George has a crazy tantrum in which he yells, "Anybody knows... You gotta keep your worlds apart!"

Today, as I watched The Trifecta enter the church sanctuary for their Thanksgiving Program, it occurred to me that my worlds were colliding.  Not in the same way as George of course.  Quite the opposite, actually…all the things I love the most were meeting head-on in one location, at one time. 

My parents sat to my right, my brother and Chris Jackson to my left.  I sat smashed in the middle, in a pew, in a church I adore to tiny pieces.  First Presbyterian Preschool and The Trifecta’s teachers, Ms. Allison and Ms. Tasha…have I mentioned how much I cherish them today?   And then, just when I didn’t think I could take it anymore, The Trifecta; Elizabeth, Hendley, and Mary Ellis, walked into the sanctuary. 

And for a moment I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t take the happiness that palpitated inside me.  My worlds were colliding; my parents with my brother with my church, with our preschool, with my husband with my precious children…things that I treasure, in one room, at one time.

But, unlike George, I didn’t have a tantrum.  I did burst into happy tears though. Check out the show: 

Join Them

Once upon a time The Trifecta used to take magical naps.  The kind of naps blessed by unicorns and sprinkled with enchanted sleepy horn dust.  Then, the unicorn galloped away and naptime stopped. 

No more time for Mommy to eat lunch.  No more time to fold laundry while watching, “The Real Housewives of New York.”  Or, “Bridezillas.”  Or, “Law and Order.”  Or anything on the Lifetime Movie Network.  No more cruising EBAY for NWT Lilly Pulitzer or obsessively scrolling through my smocked auction pages on Facebook.  Mommy time died when the magical unicorn ran away. 

I tried all sorts of tricks.  I sat in a rocker and told them I would call Santa if they didn’t sleep.  Instead of sleeping they spent the whole time whispering, “You won’t have to call Santa on me, okay Mommy?”  Or, “Hey Mommy, look at me, I’m sleeping.”  Or my personal favorite, after not sleeping at all, “What a great sleep.  I’m wide awake now!”

I Pinterested and found a glorious idea for nap boxes filled with books and “quiet” toys. This resulted in The Trifecta leaping from bed to bed, fighting over books, piling the “quiet” toys on the floor and eventual mayhem. 

Then, one day, after my 26^th trip up the stairs and my 14^th personal depiction of the police banging on the door and threatening to cart away non-napping three year olds, I had an epiphany.  If you can’t beat them, join them.  I’m a fighter.  I don’t give up.  But this battle, this insane combat from 1:30-3:30 each day…The Trifecta had the upper hand. 

“Move over,” I ordered as I climbed into Mary Ellis’ bed.  “What are you doing, Mommy?” she asked. “I’m going to take a nap.  In your bed,” I answered.  Elizabeth and Hendley climbed into bed with us.  I had a toddler on each arm and one on my stomach.  Within 10 minutes, The Trifecta fell into sleep.

The mystic unicorn had returned. 

The system is not perfect.  It’s hot and sweaty when you have three bodies napping upon you.  There is drool involved…lots and lots of drool.  Most days two of the three fall asleep while I spend the rest of the time whisper-shouting, “Get still and quiet or you’ll wake your sisters!” 

And one time, I fell asleep.  And when I woke up there was not a Trifecta in the bed.  There was a duo.  The third had crept out of the bedroom and into the playroom.  There was a big mess in there.  But she was still alive so I didn’t worry about the mess so much.

Periodically, my limbs will endure such a smashing that my arms and legs will fall asleep.  Leaving only my face muscles active.

I still love naptime.  The snuggling.  The laughing.  The whispering.  The kisses.  I love hearing them breathe when they sleep. 

Welcome home, enchanted unicorn.