i am worn out.
it is very easy to be worn out when you have a three- almost four-month-old. ridiculously so. worn out is normal when you have an almost four-month-old, actually. especially when she’s going through a sleep regression. especially when you think she’s teething (overachiever).
something i’m learning about being the parent of a tiny person is perspective is everything. if i view my tiny waking up every hour through the night as a problem, an impediment to my sleep, a roadblock in my “normal,” then it will definitely feel that way. if i view it as simply where we are right now, it feels much easier.
but still there is the sleep deprivation.
sleep is a basic, primal need. without sleep our hormones go crazy. our physical hearts go crazy. things that would normally be trivial and ridiculous feel like insurmountable obstacles. walking the dog, when i just got the baby to sleep and know she’s going to be up again in an hour, feels like mount everest. but really he is just a dog, and he needs to pee like the rest of us. that’s just how it is: baby needs to be nursed. dog needs to be walked. (mama needs to be coffee-ed.)
so when i am so overtired i can’t remember what my name is or what month we’re in, it is so easy to lose it. to feel like i’m spinning out and let anger, frustration, overwhelmed-ness take over. but really, being exhausted is just part of how our lives are these days: alex is traveling. mazzy is growing like a weed. the dog still needs to be walked. the dishes always need to be done. the diapers always need to be washed. the cat always needs to be sprayed when she jumps on the stove. i am always tired.
so i rally. i make a cup or three of coffee during mazzy’s nap (during which i soothe her back down several times), take some motrin for the pain behind my eyes, and i rally. i walk the dog. i rally. motherhood is rallying. if i am calm and expect that i will be tired and that my child will not sleep through the night, will cry, will want to be held as soon as i decide to do laundry, it will not feel like an obstacle. it will just be what is. mazzy isn’t not sleeping to terrorize me – she’s just having a hard time.
my church is doing a 21-day fast ahead of a city-wide prayer and worship event, so i thought and prayed about what to fast from. i thought food. i really like food. but then i found something better.
so, for these three weeks i am fasting from yelling in anger and frustration and, more importantly, i am fasting from letting my current circumstances feel like obstacles. they are what they are, and nothing more.
Surely you know. Surely you have heard.
The Lord is the God who lives forever, who created all the world.
He does not become tired or need to rest.
No one can understand how great his wisdom is.
(Isaiah 40:28 NCV)
so i lean into the lord. when i am tired, he is wide awake, and his awakeness awakens me.
when i look at that sweet baby-burrito asleep in her pack ‘n’ play (we are still swaddling for naps), my “obstacles” don’t matter anyway. she is worth feeling so tired i’m not sure i can walk. she is the future and i have been charged with giving her my all, and i will. and i do.
—
alex came home wednesday. on tuesday evening, weary from a week of being the only set of hands to change diapers, mazzy laughed for the first time. she has a coo that is her giggle, but this was her first real laugh. and i realized in that nerdy, throaty, deeper-than-i-expected laugh, that although it feels like i am giving her my all, really, she is giving me myself.
