My poor mother woke up at 4 am because her shoulder was hurting. She was trying to back to sleep after putting a warm rice pillow over her shoulder and back. It was then that I decided to climb the stairs with which I have a love hate relationship. I live in a beautiful 1903 farm house with an L shaped staircase. Medallions are carved into the large post at the bottom of the staircase.
Although I prefer being downstairs because my two very plush beds are there and I like being close to the kitchen, I did want to check out the bedrooms after we moved in.
It took me about a week just to get the courage to climb the stairs to the landing and my mother had to coax me to climb back down. It took another week before I finally mounted the last six steps because they are very steep. It feels like the second floor is way up in the sky, especially because the house sits on a high hill.
I have short legs and a long body. When I tried to return downstairs from the second floor, I stood at the top of those six steep steps and felt fear. There was no way I could climb down these stairs. I would end up sliding down the landing. I cried and cried (my mother says I sound like a chirping bird). My mother kept encouraging me and I finally did it! However, that doesn’t mean I don’t have fear every single time and cry for my mother to help me.
Anyway, yesterday morning, I climbed to the landing and just couldn’t bring myself to climb the last six steps, maybe because it was dark (I have sight just in one eye due to glaucoma). So I started crying and this was right when my mother was trying to fall back asleep. She escorted me up to the second landing. I finally made it to her bedroom and went to sleep on the pink rug next to her bed. Unfortunately, I had an accident. So then my mother had to take the rug downstairs and put Shout on it. She got back into bed, but I wasn’t going to let her sleep. I started pacing. I refuse to sleep on the wooden floor. There must be something soft underneath me. My mother got out of bed and put her plush robe on the floor for me.
She returned to bed and tried to fall asleep yet again. My cat brother Miles started meowing loudly in the hallway. She chased him downstairs only to discover that my elderly brother Freddie had peed on the floor. Hey, I take no responsibility for their inappropriate behaviors (my mother says Freddie can’t control himself).
By now, it was 6 am. My mother finally gave up trying to go back to sleep. Somehow she made it through the work day with just four hours of sleep. I take naps all the time, so I am not sure how she managed without at least one nap.
Next time I will tell you about the porches and why my mother rented this house JUST FOR ME!