'Mad Mommy'

I am mad at my 6-month-old. That's right mad, mad, mad! Why you ask? Oh ho, I will tell you why. Last night he nursed all night, or at least it felt like all night. I am fine with our usual routine -- I nurse him to sleep between 7 and 8, he sleeps for a while, wakes up once in the middle of the night, and I quickly nurse him back to sleep. Then his usual stirring begin around 4:30-6:30, and by 6:30-7 he is usually ready to be up, until his first morning nap an hour or two later.

So this morning around 5:45 or so, I said " I can't take it. Calvin you have to take him for a while". Calvin is up at 5:30 to pray and read, philosophically examine the questions of life and death, and ponder on how to apply them to this crazy world we live in. But not this morning. This morning he will take care of baby number two until it is time for P to get ready for kindergarten.  He will then take P to the bus stop with baby in tow.

At about five to 8 Calvin comes back in the bedroom and sheepishly says with an air of guilt, "I need to leave for work soon, shall I reheat your coffee?" I am feeling a good bit better now, after a few hours of sound solo sleep. I mumble a "yes please" and proceed to have a coffee and muffin in bed. I say good bye to Calvin, wishing him a good day at work, and I take the baby downstairs to do a few chores around the house. I have stripped P's food-stained sheets and gathered an enormous amount of laundry for a mere three days since the last loads.

Then it happens, the baby starts to complain. Well, yes, after all it is just about time for the morning nap. I stop what I am doing to pick him up and set up for our morning nap routine.

We go in the sitting room -- pillow, blanket, burp cloth, water, prayer beads, spiritual journal, and second coffee all in place. I get on the couch, nursing position ready and go.  As planned baby Soren begins to fade. After a little too long caught up in FB articles, I pick up my beads ready to begin my daily practice of meditation, prayer, reading and writing while baby sleeps soundly in my lap.

Then it happens. Lo and behold, not even a third of the way into my routine and his little blue eyes pop open and he gives me that infectious smile and coo. 'Oh, no you don't', I think. I am not done, barely started in fact. Yes, I spent a few minutes too long on FB, but still that was a cat nap and you will not be rested. Sure enough he was not. I put him in his saucer and thought, 'Well at least I will finish the laundry', but no sooner was he fussing again. Well ok, let's try round two. All set up, he nurses a little then looks at me. You are just messing around I think....well let's go to the park. After all it is a most beautiful day, the fresh air will do us both good, and surely you will sleep in your stroller. So I put him on his tummy and go upstairs to change. When I return he is starting to complain. 'I know I know, you are tired, you need your nap, and oh, I smell you have a dirty diaper'. Well, at least that is justified complaining. I pick him up and put him in his pack-and-play to change him. And then IT happens. He looks at me, that little being, and he does it again. He did what our Savior does, he turned everything upside down and in turn made the world right.

It went like this, I gave him my fingers and he grasped his chubby hands around them, I pull a little and he uses every strength in his body to pull him self up to a sitting position. This is his latest favorite task. Once he has arrived seated with all his strength and some of my help, he beams a huge open-mouthed smile. It is pure unadulterated joy, and in that moment I am changed. No longer am I wondering how I will possibly accomplish Christmas shopping and packing for a big trip when doing a load of laundry is a challenge. Instead, I am swept up into his world -- a world where sitting up, even with help, is worthy of pure joy.

And then it grows. I feel immense gratitude and love for a husband who loves me and this little being so much that he is willing to sacrifice his morning for us. When he comes into our room to hand Soren off, his heart is also open, because this little being has opened it with his presence and joy.

I am not mad, I actually feel a little sad, melancholic. Psychiatrists say that anger is a secondary emotion, usually covering up sadness. Maybe I am sad because I see my own selfishness, lack of generosity,and impatience, in this perfect Joy. I am humbled and brought to the truth of what matters and what does not. This little guy wants to be held a little more today, and that's okay. A little less of my list will be checked off and that is okay too.

As I open the car door arriving at the park, he is sound a sleep, so peaceful and serene. I take a nice walk, enjoying the gloriousness of nature. I have time to do yoga, meditate and pray, and we head home, both content. Isn't it funny how when you let go, the things you wanted to do seem to fall in your lap, and sometimes when you try so hard to make them happen, they seem further and further away?

Soren, you are indeed a blessing beyond measure. Thank you for bringing me back to truth and love, for showing me that even sitting up, with help, is worthy of pure joy.