Moom freak-out moments in that batscope time of the night

batwomanI have been persona non grata a few times this week. To others but mostly to myself. The worst transgression occurred last night in those wee batscope hours of the night. Although, as I was sitting there freaking out at 2:30 AM or whatever it was, I couldn’t help thinking that it didn’t look any different outside than it does when I walk at 6:00 AM or thereabouts.

So, last night, I fell asleep in front of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” *again*. I think that is the third time I have watched that movie. I have watched a different set of scenes every time but I have never watched the whole thing and I haven’t seen the end. Does it end in daylight? I know that it is a critically acclaimed film but boy oh boy do I have trouble watching a party that *begins* at 2:00 AM. Because that’s the blasted batscope time of night for me and if I wake up it is to go to the bathroom or get some water or investigate the aftermath of a tree falling on the house. Or freak out. Like last night.

So last night, I think I got to the part where they drive drunkenly to a bar (what bar is open after 2:00 AM?) and Sandy Dennis dances. And then I crashed out on the couch and the GG apparently turned off the DVD and went to bed. I woke up at 12:21 AM. Mouse was not home. Now, Mouse is in a play right now and last night was opening night AND SHE IS 22 (!) and she has lived on her own at college and in Senegal and she has been staying out late since she could drive solo after midnight and I have always trusted her and I am used to this stuff. Or so I thought. Usually, she texts me when she’ll be later than usual. Last night she didn’t? Why? Because it was opening night and she was having FUN (duh!), unlike her moom, who was trying to stay awake to watch a movie she (me, that is) is rapidly developing an, uh, interesting relationship with. Okay. It’s 12:21. I texted: Grok? And went to bed.

And woke up an hour or so later. No response from my text. Okay. Batscope time. I went on to high alert. I texted. I called. I left messages. I didn’t leave messages. I woke up the GG (bad idea). I sat on the Green Couch and checked my email and twitter and stuff on my phone. Er, and clipped my toenails. Why not, I’m up in the middle of the night. I went downstairs and got the laundry. I washed the remaining couple of dishes I’d left soaking earlier and cleaned the sink and I’d’ve probably gone on to start cleaning the whole kitchen and vacuuming the house if I hadn’t gotten ahold of myself.

Of COURSE, she came home. She was FINE! (I knew that somewhere down there.) She had been out having fun with the cast and left her phone in the car.

I try so hard not to worry about my kids adult children. When they aren’t at home I really don’t worry about where they are at whatever time of night it is wherever they are. I remember when I was that age and would go out for half the night. I was always okay but I knew that my parents were always back home worrying. It was a constant source of household strife but now that I am an old batscope kind of moom, I know where they were coming from. Where the heck *is* she? Who is she with? Is her car in the ditch somewhere? That was back in the days *well* before cell phones. Imagination takes over in that batscope time of the night. Really, it’s pretty easy now. If you aren’t sure where your kid is, you can call. Or try to. And it is perfectly acceptable for your kid adult child to leave her phone in her car.

Whatever. My imagination took off last night. I tried to control it but, in that batscope time of night, I was thinking all kinds of crazy things. It can be hard to do the transition between the days when you tuned your bat-ears to every teensy, tinesy, wee little sound your newborn baby made to tuning out the comings and goings of her adult life. Even though she has somehow, despite my intervention, turned out to be such a rock-solid adult-type person that you would trust her with your life.

Love you, Mouse, sorry! Have fun in Dallas, Lizard! Maybe you’ll meet JR.

4 Responses to “Moom freak-out moments in that batscope time of the night”

  1. Kathy Farnell Says:

    You and I are too much alike! Out of sight, out of mind (sort of). But when they are home, they better check in or I can’t sleep. Hey, I thought someone shot JR.

  2. Margaret Says:

    Been there done that. Night is a weird time and I think we go a little crazy. (at least I do!) By the way, my hair has a mind of its own too, that’s why I keep it short and layered. Mushroom head was not a good look for me.

  3. Jay Says:

    This JR is alive and well, and well north of Dallas. Back to the hair stuff. I remember wanting long hair, but since mine was so snarly Mom almost always wanted it shorter. I have long hair now – started there as I was too lazy to get a hair cut appointment. The tieing it up thing is easy too. But if I were to live in Michigan it would be cut short in a heartbeat. The humidity really makes it balloon out of proportion. I have been considering going to a really short cut, (like Jane’s) but that would mean making an appointment.

  4. Deb Baumler Says:

    So eloquently put!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m currently trying to practice my blase so my 22 year old son doesn’t suspect I’m guilty of night worries!