Reaching the "end" before the end...

Each day I awake with thoughts of grandeur.  I think of stillness throughout our house, the sound of cooes from our four-week-old child, and the well-regulated schedule of eat, awake, sleep that Babywise and various other articles have proclaimed is the "way to get your newborn to sleep soundly."  Then, approximately 45 minutes after I awake to start this peaceful, scheduled day, I realize I've, once again, allowed my idealism to creep in.  BAM!  This would be the sound of my perfectly planned and thought-out expectations being squashed by the opposite of what so many parenting books/articles have reassured us.  So, we're left to try everything in or outside those "research-based" books to help regulate eat, awake, sleep time.  An hour and a half ago, we laid our son, Ari, down to sleep for his afternoon nap.  We, like all really caring parents, want our child to be rested and grow up to be healthy and strong.  Apparently, Ari has other expectations for his nap.  He completed 40 minutes of sleep before waking up like he'd just been stung by a nest of hornets.  Allow me to rewind about 2 hours earlier...

I arrived home after working for about an hour and a half, to my son eating lunch.  Jenny informs me that Ari slept an entire 4 minutes...AN ENTIRE 4 MINUTES...for his morning nap.  Well, it looks like we've got this schedule thing down pat.  Parenting has now been figured out.  NEXT!  Sarcasm can sometimes be as soothing as swaying, shushing, and swaddling (by the way, that didn't work to put Ari to sleep, either).  So, determined, I planned in my naive mind, that'd he'd get a full belly, fall soundly asleep, and we'd lay him in his crib for his much needed multi-hour afternoon nap.  What a great plan, Colby!  BAM!  (refer to previous paragraph for definition of this usage of onomatopoeia)  But, where's the fun in not describing how it all came crashing down?  So, he's got his fully bell.  Check.  I've got him swaddled and am swaying him into a very sound sleep.  Check.  His body begins to go limp as he surrenders to sleep.  Check.  I skillfully and carefully place my right hand under his precious, little head, and begin to lower him to the crib below.  He's still sleeping.  Gently, I slip my hands out from under him and allow the mattress to accept his full weight.  He's still sleeping.  I turn on the monitor, make sure the fan is running, and make a quiet, successful exit.  I've done it!  Fast-foward 4 minutes...BAM!

Now, this probably sounds like a lot of complaining.  It is never my intent to use a media outlet to share frustration or discontent with how things are going.  Yeah, things seem rough at times; however, our son brings us A TON of joy each day.  My blog post's fuel comes from reaching my end before the end.  I don't mean that I'm "at the end of my rope" or that I'm so frustrated that I can't take anymore.  I simply mean that I've arrived at the end of all my ideas, all the ideas I've read in the books, and all the advice that we've generously received from friends and family.  I've reached that end before the end of the day.  I almost feel like I haven't "finished the race" in some way.  Think about it.  If you train to run a marathon, half-marathon, or 5k, you train and train and train to reach the end before you physically reach your end.  You experience success by reaching that end while still having something left in the tank or in your arsenal.  So, we're out of ideas.  It is 5:30 p.m., and Ari has only slept a total of one hour today.  I'm left feeling lost; I'm left reaching my "end" before the end.

This is a tomato plant, believe it or not.  I successfully planted it two evenings ago in hopes that it would produce some of the juiciest, sweetest Sungold tomatoes.  That's the end I had expected, had hoped for.  The actual end was a small doe having dinner at the expense of my tomato plant.  When we moved in to our apartment, one of the most intriguing parts of this place was how close the wildlife would come to our sliding door.  We love that about our place.  We've somehow gleaned joy from seeing the mule deer come so close and just calmly "be" close to us.  As you might expect, I was a little upset when I first saw this tomato "stalk" last night.  But, maybe I had misenvisioned the "end".  Maybe the point is that I find some new joy or understanding by experiencing the deer.  Maybe, too, I've misenvisioned the "end" for today.  Maybe the "end" is not that we figure out this magical routine for Ari.  Maybe it's that I need to experience a little deeper trust and reliance on our Father.  Maybe it's that the "end" is actually a beginning...a beginning for more growth.

Thanks for reading.

Colby