|itty bitty sleepy cuatro baby|
I know that we still have one five hour drive and one ten hour drive ahead of us on this road trip so there is still room for a huge letdown, but so far we have either been in the car or at a museum for three entire days and the Asher boy is a dream. He smiles all day long and he is irresistible to the point that a waitress and a random woman in the elevator tried to grab him out of my arms and grown men tickle his back and strangers make faces at him in hopes of a smile. They just can't get over him. Then we lay the stroller flat and cover it with a blanket, bird style, and he takes a nap that lasts 30 minutes long or one and a half hours long or somewhere in between and he wakes up ready to rock.
He is officially portable.
For a small blip of time, but a time that felt it would go on forever, I kind of thought I would lose my mind. I cried. A lot. I felt like I'd never be able to do anything well again. I wondered how I could ever be enough for all four of these kids I love so much and take a shower. How I could make dinner and teach spelling. How I could wash the laundry and braid Audrey's hair. It was a time full of love for my family and my new baby, but questions about me as a mama, wife friend, functioning human.
Then we took him to the chiropractor and found the reason for his pain and discomfort. That, combined with the fact that he grew and matured and changed so quickly like little babies are known to do and my hormones evened out and I stopped feeling like the biggest failure known to humankind and we are here where we are today. And it is so delightfully swell.
Don't get me wrong. He still thinks sleep is for the weak, but we're working with it. And someday he could be a two-year-old that's full of sass or a four-year-old that's full of whys or a seven-year-old who is such an artist he is compelled to draw on walls or a ten-year-old who runs away to the neighbor's house or a 12-year-old who, who. . . I don't know.
Isn't that the fun of it? The wonder of it? The beauty of it?
That we are all in the middle of our story and we could never even begin to guess the ending of it.
That there are times it will be so much worse than we thought possible we'll think we've cried all the tears we can cry. The Epic Fail portion of life. But there will be other times so sweet, so tender, so full of surprise and love, that the hard times are forgotten and hope is restored and we breathe a deep cleansing, "Thank you, God" breath and forge ahead another day. The Big Love of life.
The best advice I've received came from my sister-in-law. I was in the throes of parenting frustration times infinity and she said, "Someday this will be a story you'll tell."
And she is so right.
And I've got a portable baby to prove it.
What's the best advice, parenting or otherwise, that you've received? What stage of your life felt like it would go on forever, but is now just a story you tell?