Our little Oedipus

In my deep slumber, I felt a sense of movement next to me. I knew, I was in the NREM sleep mode, because, I could sense that my eyes were not moving inside my eyelids. For any woman who has gone through 2 pregnancies, having a peaceful time for herself is only at the sleep time. I was getting disturbed.

A bit annoyed, I raised my head slightly from the pillow, and asked, "Pal, are you Ok? Why are you getting restless in sleep? Leg pain?" It was to my husband, the guy who was crouching, tumbling, stretching by annoying me.

"Mmm...nothing. " That was his brief mumbling reply.

"What?" I raised my voice not clear of what he said.

"Nothing..."

If it was nothing, then what is the point in waking me up too. This is not first time, not the second time, but this has been happening for quite some time. Almost every night, for the last couple of months, him, despite being an athlete who takes care of himself very well by having regular fitness regimen and good eating habits, has not been sleeping well.

Out of concern, I had asked him to check with a doctor sometime before. He never followed up on that. His reply was, "These doctors would do a brain scan for nothing. I don't want to be a guinea pig for their fancy theories." Men, and their stupid ego.

I had asked him to try yoga too. "My long distance running is my meditation, my yoga. You can't top that," was his answer.

I know, next year he is turning 40. Thought, it could be the reason. I have read, for men 40 is the age that brings excess of fear of everything - right from their fear of "performance" degradation (what? from 5 to 4 minutes?), to the morbid fear of their significant other leaving them. Oftentimes I have noticed him feeling uncomfortable when I am around college going boys. Honestly, I feel good, trust me. I have even teased him about "Rocky the rock climbing dude", and his strong "pumps", and "Sam the surfer dude", and his 6 packs.

Stop it, woman! Stop it! Don't get carried away. Sorry, let us focus on my husband for now.

Kids growing up, thinking about college, still worried about the next month's paycheck to pay the home mortgage, adds up too.

If he does not tell me what is bothering him, I cannot help him. The truth is, if I don't have a good night sleep, then my morning schedule of waking up early and getting the breakfast and lunch prepared for the kids, in addition to having my own personal time to do cross-words would all get spoiled.

"Do you know what time it is?" He was busy searching for the cell phone we keep on the window above the bed's head stand. It was on my right, and so he was trying to reach it without realizing that his knees were pressing hard on my tummy, putting more pressure on my otherwise peaceful bladder to force me go to the bathroom.

"Could you stop it? Why do you want to know the time now? It is not even 2AM. God's sake, get a tranquilizer to knock yourself down." The AK-47 in me just opened with a barrage of bullets.

Silence. He laid on his back, knees crossed as if he was in "ready to sit" posture, eyes staring at the ceiling. A sense of guilt, typically unusual for a woman of my age, occurred in me. Something was really bothering him, but he was not telling me. Anyway, within minutes I was back to my NREM sleep.

"Mom..Mom..." I heard a kid's call from the room across ours. I knew, it was our younger son who is just months shy of his terrible two. I didn't have to check the time. It must be 3 AM.

This wake up call started a few months back, and from the initial days of "you go first," and "I will go next time," bartering talks with my husband, it has come to "honey, hop on over here."

Within moments, I heard the noise as if an army of little soldiers is marching in to our room. He came, he saw and jumped right in between us. As in any military expedition, similar to the occupying forces, our little one created space by simply kicking his father out further to the left. He made sure that his treasure, that is me, is far away from the innocent man who seemed to have possession of me, until a few moments back.

In our queen size bed, having a little intruder in between, who was so determined to make more space for himself, left my husband no choice but to leave his "queen" to the conqueror.

To lay his claim, our son grabbed my hair and got cozy with me. I have been conquered. My poor husband could do nothing but to stake out in the couch. There had been times, attempts were made by "man" to quell the conqueror, but the "war cries" left him cower in fear.

Like the defeated army, all my husband could do was to mumble in protest, saying, "You, little Oedipus brat! Never drive your dad away to get to your mom!"

I couldn't feel sorry for my husband's restlessness anymore. I have my next phase of the REM sleep to worry about.

And he made it! Yes, 40 it is!

Ladies and Gentlemen, and all the other creatures - living or dead - movable or immovable, of this wonderful planet earth, our man, Rajkishore Govindu took his foot steps in to the new era of his age in the early hours of April 1st, 2010.

He turned 40, amidst a small group of friends, who braved the cold rainy night to drive to his place. Obviously, the love of his life, the shining light of happiness that makes him have a peaceful sleep every day - the finest bottle of wine - was also there to share the momentous occasion of his life. Dear goodness, how could I miss out his dear wife in planning this pleasure ride?

More than us surprising him, we were surprised that he was fresh, and busy at 12AM, looking at the flight schedules for the upcoming Las Vegas trip. As planned when we knocked on the door, his lovely wife was waiting for us - may be anxiously - perhaps, to get the celebration done with, so that she could get to celebrate his special birthday later! Perhaps, their private celebration was already over by the time we reached there, more to add suspicion to his fresh and brisk outlook at that wee hour.

We wanted to get him all the gifts that would be needed for his age: rogaine, false teeth, walking stick, probably Preparation-H and the most importantly, a magnifying glass. Rationality in us told that we don't have to rush for them, as anyway we could gift them as and when it is needed by him.

All we got for him was a cake, thanks to the selection from a specialty bakery in Santana Row, and a greeting card. More than him we all had a lion's share of it.

I can't stop myself from thanking me, for safely transporting the 3 different individuals - who have much greater commitment to their families - from their homes and back. Trust me, the cake gave me such a sugar boost that I slept only on and off on the way back driving!

In the forthcoming days, probably in months, it would be nicer to see what kind of transformation a man goes through in his 40s. I am not far enough, and so I am looking for a beacon of hope, a light, that would help me walk the same path in the near future.

Many, many happy returns, young man!