Canary

We are quite accustomed to being woken by Jonas at all hours of the late night or early morning. So, we shouldn’t have been surprised when we heard him stirring early this morning. Yet, instead of a wailing cry or endless pleading for Mommy or Daddy, we heard something…different. Coming from his pre-dawn room, was the sound of him singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.” Immediately we thought, “Oh, no. He thinks it’s time to get up.” But as soon as the verse ended, so did all the sounds coming from his room. Then it hit us: he hadn’t woken early; he was singing in his sleep.

For months now, a canary seems to have taken up residence here. Even in the middle of the night now, our house is constantly filled with the sounds of a small, two-year-old voice belting out the tune-of-the-moment, whether a classic children’s song or a creation of his own. He often performs his renditions for adoring fans, interested onlookers and a filming camera (his personal favorite so he can then view his performance for himself). Not being a singer myself, I have to admire his gumption. Free of self-consciousness, he will belt out his tunes with no concern of melody, clarity or correct lyrics. Before having kids, the only places I could be found singing were in the privacy of my shower or solitude of my car. Now, having performed for the little ones on countless occasions, my musical guard has been lowered, but I am still not conducting any public performances. But perhaps I should take a lesson from my toddler and freely sing out whenever my heart desires. From the large smile of contentment on his face (and that of his onlookers), it seems to be working quite well for him.

Dedication

If there’s one thing I admire in small children, it is their dedication. When they get something in their minds, they will stop at nothing until they reach their goal…or have a meltdown trying. I like to think of myself as being dedicated to certain causes, but often I find myself making hypocritical choices if for no other reason than convenience sake. I used to be vegetarian, yet I still drank milk, ate cheese and wore leather. Then I eventually ate chicken, tasted pork chop and now even enjoy the occasional serving of beef. Perhaps that was just a rite of passage induced by the high school biology requirement of fetal pig dissection. Yet, there is one cause that I have held near my heart most of my life: I consider myself a tree hugger. But how many times have I discarded the plastic food container into the trash instead of the recycling bin, choosing not to open the lid to discover the maxed-out state of the well-past-its-prime food item?

But toddlers, well, their determination would not allow them to compromise their beliefs in such a way. Take for example my two-year-old. Last night around 3:00 am, he decided he wanted some cuddles, even though his father had obliged that request a short hour prior. When told that it was time to sleep and cuddles would come in the morning, he persisted to scream, thrash and cry out for his mama for no less than one, solid, middle-of-the-night, nerve-wracking, patience-testing hour. (Let me pause for a moment to explain that I do not condone the cry-it-out method and have done all in my power to resist it. Yet, after enduring a month of having a toddler wake up every night with a frequency greater than his baby sister, we try tactics in the dark of the night that perhaps we resist in the light of the day and when properly rested.)

I’m not sure I could commit myself to a desire in the same way Jonas did last night. I do value sleep so much more. But not my precious little son. With a will he received from his father (I claim no part of it), he screamed with such a force that he woke up slightly hoarse. Now that is what I call dedication…or at least that is the optimistic perspective that I have presently adopted in an effort to keep my sanity.

Simplicity

I was speaking with someone the other day who doesn’t have kids yet. She would like to have children at some point and given that she is in her 30s, probably before too long, but I could see the doubt, concern and fear in her eyes. She said, “We plan to have kids, but right now, I’m just selfish. I like my things. Plus with kids they are constantly there and I’m not sure I can handle that.”

What an honest statement. And how true it is. Constantly there. Yes, they are constantly there hugging, crying, laughing, talking, singing, demanding, eating, drinking, wanting, needing, challenging, exploding, playing, learning, pleasing, persuading, running, screaming, tumbling, cheering, caring, cuddling and occasionally sleeping. Children, and their multitude of emotions and actions, are always present. Parenthood is a job with no coffee breaks, no sick time and no vacations. While it can be one of the greatest blessings, it can be the greatest challenge (all in the same moment).

I related to what she was saying. Matt and I waited seven years before having kids. We traveled, rock climbed, white water rafted, golfed, slept in, relaxed, stayed up late and just enjoyed each other’s company. We were selfish. And we loved every minute of it. Now we are faced with the constant challenges of stopping whining, teaching gentleness, redirecting frustration, maintaining consistency, guiding without enabling, rearing responsibility, reinforcing desirable behavior…. At times, the days of hanging on the side of a rock seem long gone.

Jonas cuddled on my lap as this woman and I talked. I held him tight and thought of those pre-kid days when we could eat our dinner in front of the TV and not feel guilty. Or we could stay up late talking and not worry about what time the first child would wake. Were they simpler days? Yes. But as Jonas laid his head on my chest and fell asleep, I knew that simpler didn’t equate to better. Yet seeing the question in her eyes and knowing the range of emotions that come with parenthood, I simply said to her, “Enjoy your time together now” …because sometimes a bit of selfishness now can lead to greater selflessness later.