I refer to surfing far too often for someone who has absolutely zero knowledge of the sport. Putting a baby down to nap is like "riding the wave", I tell my husband. Hop on just a bit early and the wave will sweep gently under you, slipping away and insisting that sleep is for serious people, not happy, chatty babies. If you are too late though, the wave will pummel you to the sand, keeping you under and dragging you onto shore. Everyone will sleep eventually but not before some serious roughing up.
Ideally you want to catch the wave just before it crests. Soaring just ahead of your child's exhaustion, you will spread your arms and feel the ocean spray. Your heart lifts as you witness the signs: dozy eyes, contented sucking sounds, slowing movements and then you duck under the wave, out of the room, just in time for sleep to wash over that litte body. Shut the door, exhale and look around in amazement. I made it! We made it! We have arrived on the sweet, sweet sands of Dreamland. Exhilaration mixed with relief. The feeling is indescribable. Unless you use a surfing analogy, of course.
Tsunamis (in sticking with my theme here) are an every other day occurrence for us. Eleanor, Charles and I have a splendid day. I am energized and centered in the Truth and totally content with little sleep and even less quiet time and only having the inclination to drink smoothies or meals that take less than three minutes to assemble and consume. The very next day, however, the wave comes crashing down. And it's really just me being too tired to do anything but follow Eleanor around asking her which story she'd like to read now. and next. and next. and next. And I nurse Charles even though he does not want to or need to be nursed because when all else fails filling that not-so-newborn belly has to be the answer to every question ever.
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Things have been mostly wonderful but occasionally gnarly. The most wonderful things, you ask? Well...having an Indian grandmother go out of her way to say that she hoped that I was living with my parents so that they could help me with my little ones. I answered that question in the affirmative and was proud to do it. I am so thankful for my parents and their hospitality. We are living on a gorgeous lake and the summer weather is nigh. God is hedging me in all around with provision, protection and present-mindedness. Which has also made it very challenging for me to write. I file away my little thoughts in this corner and that of my mind, but then choose to forget them at the end of each day in order to stay in the moment. Writing is an excellent practice but certainly inhibits my ability to focus on the present. When writing, one is either rehashing the past or imagining the future and I am just not feeling called to do either.
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