Self-care

Anyone who is in even semi-regular contact with me knows this: Susanna is a terrible sleeper. In fact, that's my number one chit-chat-with-strangers line of small talk, after they (inevitably) say "Look at that smile," (because she is not at all shy about doling out the friendliest grin you've ever seen): "Yep," I'll say, "she's such a happy baby, but she doesn't sleep!"

I'm not sure why I always share that-- maybe because chances are good the next question is going to be "Does she sleep through the night?" anyway. Or maybe it's because I feel like I need to excuse my beyond-exhausted face. I don't know. But people nod sympathetically and then go back to flirting with my kid. And friends hear me gripe about it and nod sympathetically too. And I'm a broken record on the phone with my mother, who has heard all about the not-at-all-fun game of musical beds that goes on in my house (the newest option is a futon mattress on the floor of the girls' room, which gets a lot of use).

Nobody is sleeping well in my house. And, in all honesty, the last month has been really ugly as a result. I haven't been proud of the way I've handled my temper, and the lack of patience with which I've been responding to Lea being the very young child she is. I have been No Fun at best, and probably a little bit scary at my worst. Worse yet, I think there have been times when Lea has even started to worry about me, which she should not have to be doing. Period.

I borrowed a really good, helpful discipline book from a friend, and more than anything, it's helped me adjust my expectations of Lea, and really slammed home for me that no, she is not actually TRYING to be a jerk. She's just trying to cope with the world, and with her ideas being greater than her fine motor skills, and with her sister getting to the age where she can actively ruin a game. That's a lot to contend with, and she's going to behave in ways that annoy the crap out of me as a result. But the best thing I can do, I think, is just try try try to understand her-- and that doesn't just mean saying "I understand," but really wanting to actually understand, even if I can't do anything about it.

The other thing I've been resolving to do is recognize when the absolute most I can ask of myself is to simply not yell. When I have to throw every discipline system or process or technique aside, and not strive for teachable moments or even consistent consequences, but just: stay. as. calm. as. possible. And that's it. And on the days when that's difficult, I should be able to congratulate myself for achieving it, because it takes more strength of wills than I, honestly, have ever had to muster in my life.

This is part of a larger picture of self-care that I've been trying to pay more attention to. I think the main reason it's easy for me to give up on that is because really, if I had it my way, self-care would mean one thing, and that's more sleep. Since that's just not possible most of the time, I kind of throw up my hands and say, screw it, and grit my teeth through most days. But, that's dumb. And on Saturday morning when it was 4:45 and I had a restless baby in my arms, and I realized that I was so stressed by the sleeplessness that my heart and thoughts were racing to the extent that I couldn't even fall asleep if I wanted to, even if the child passed out right that second, I started to think-- and I don't know why this is-- about a quotation about prayer, which had been a favorite of ASP staffers and often ended up on the walls of summer centers.

"To say prayer changes things," says Oswald Chambers, "is not as close to the truth as saying prayer changes me, and then I change things."

I always liked that, but never had such an appropriate moment to put it into action. I knew that I felt foolish praying for Susanna to go to sleep, or for me to be able to sleep. It just never felt like the right kind of thing to be praying about, I don't know. So I thought to myself-- why do I want to go to sleep so bad? And the answer was, because I want to feel good in the morning. OK, fine, came the answer. Do something right now that might help you have a better morning. Take action.

I took a shower. Susanna usually plays happily on the bathroom floor for as long as it takes me to do that, and this time, I took an even longer, hotter one than usual. I washed my hair and shaved my legs and did some deep stretching, willing my body to feel more ready for the day. I got dressed, made the bed, folded clothes that had been in a heap, dried my hair, put on lip gloss, and went downstairs.

Yeah, I was still exhausted by the end of the day. I'm not going to pretend that I felt so rejuvenated I bounded through my activities and forgot all about how far in the red I really am when it comes to physical rest. But I would've been exhausted anyway, and at least I had shiny hair and lips. And it made me realize that I can take care of myself in non-sleep ways way better than I've been doing.

One of those ways is to cut myself some slack if the highest parenting standard I can attain is merely to not scream at my kid.

It's to be a little less of a tightwad, and realize that a few bucks spent frivolously on something that makes me feel good today is not going to make or break our financial security. (Hello, James Taylor at Christmas! You have already put many smiles on my face!)

It's to quit it with the weighing myself, at least for a while. I'm eating as healthfully as I can figure out how to, and no, I'm not exercising, but really. That's not what I need to freaking worry about right now.

It's to investigate a computer of my own, a NEW computer, even if it's a sub-$300 netbook, as a Christmas gift to myself. And to use it to write, and to blog even when I'm foggy-headed (as now?), and to put stuff out there even if it's not up to my normal standards.

It's to try to have some perspective about the fact that treasuring Susanna is not going to scar Lea forever, or, if it is, it's a scar she will share with countless other firstborn kids, so tough. And to TREASURE this baby because she is an AMAZING baby and OH MY GOD I LOVE HER TO PIECES. She is so snuggly, and so affectionate, and so peaceful (mostly, in daylight), and such a total joy. Really. She is an AMAZING baby and I am so lucky to get to hang out with her all the time. She is pulling up on furniture, scooting around all over the place, still sucks her thumb-- and sometimes tries to keep sucking it while smiling, which is hard to do and unbearably cute, says Dada (even when she means me), loves to splash in the tub, and lights up like a Christmas tree when her sister decides to play with her. Apart from the sleeping, she is pretty much 100% happy. So-- I need to allow myself to enjoy that, no guilt attached.

Since I am indeed foggy-headed, I have no suitable ending for this blog, but that's ok, right? Right.