biology makes it so

There’s reason biology hardwired us to love our babies more than life itself – sometimes they drive us up-the-wall bonkers. But instead of throwing up our hands and walking clear out the door, we walk away for five minutes and come back and try again. And again. It is knitted in our very souls to do so.

Recently, Shaun and I have come up against this very going bonkers. We’ve had some success with Cal at sleep time, but it’s been mixed with some set backs. Bless his sweet soul; Cal would much prefer sleeping, eating, and playing in our arms much of the live long day. And just like I told Shaun last night in a tired, squeaky whisper: We can’t blame him. Just as biology ordered us to never give up on him, it ordered him to want to stay close to us. No other mammal is more dependent on its mother than a human baby. Our babies start out with the brain capacity of other primates (they are little love monkeys for goodness sake) and endure tremendous and brilliant growth to end their first year where other babies start out. Basically, they’re still in gestation for the first 12 months of life. That’s why they need us. According to biology, Cal is definitely one of the fittest. (For that and more insightful goodness, read Our Babies, Ourselves.)

So we’ve tried to hold him much of the time. And who wouldn’t want to hold the little guy for hours? But sometimes our stomachs growl or the sink overflows and we have to set him down real quick to complete household tasks. And at night, we’d like it, if we could, to set our sleeping bundle of joy down for bed and spend an hour with each other or with whatever demands our attention. That’s been the goal, anyway.

But Calvin is what they call in the sleep world a one-cycle sleeper. So even when we create a whole sensory experience (rocking, singing, sucking), get him to the limb-limp stage of sleep, set him in crib, and then slink away, he awakens wide eyed and bushy tailed 30-45 minutes after that and quickly works himself up, finding that he's not where he fell asleep, or where he'd prefer to be. (It has occured to me that this conflicts with my last entry. To clarify, this is a recent phenomenon that happens sporatically, but seems to be occuring more lately.) And at that point, it takes even more sensory experiences to get him back to sleep. Not only does this throw the breaks on adult time, it means he's not getting all the wonderful sleep cycles that he needs.

There is lots of good news though. First, we have a plan. He and I have a bedtime routine we’ve recently committed to which helps the going to sleep part. I'm trying to wean him slowing off some of his sleep attachments, while creating new ones. And I’ve taken to going on walks with him right before bed – which makes him very sleepy. Also, Shaun and I have been thoroughly blessed with a little guy who wakes only briefly to feed (when he’s in bed with us) then goes right back to sleep. Yes that calls for a hallelujah. Last, I know a lot more about sleep now that I’ve looked into it and I’ll be camping out next to his crib for a few times to try some “cycle blending,” which means rocking him back to sleep before he fully awakens (my source material: No-Cry Nap Solution).

Still, yesterday I felt like I had been running to catch a train all week. Running toward sleep, away from all this restless cat napping. I crashed into my own slumber in an hour-long midday nap. It felt good because I needed it. I only wish Cal could crash into his own sleep when he also needed it. It must be frusterating to flirt with sleep.

I never forget that someday Cal won’t need us to hold him or rock him to sleep. Shaun asks when. I can’t say exactly, but I think we won’t even notice it until that one fateful day when we'll desperately miss it.

Now, onto something else.

I realize I’ve missed a few days with this blog, which totally frustrates me. But I’m trying to allow myself a small bit of slack these days. I mean, for so many mothers before me, the main call during motherhood was to mother. Now mothers pursue careers, garnish their lives with hobbies, bank time with charities, still look chipper in the morning, clean the house, and blog about it all. That perceived pressure is something I alone have to set down and walk away from. There is only so much time in a day. And sometimes that time is best spent lying on a towel looking at trees for 30 minutes, like I do with Cal almost every evening. Also, work has picked up. Which means a little less blogging some weeks, but I'll be back in no time.

This blog has been a place of pride for me. I feel good that despite my complete lack of scrapbooking, I’m scribbling down our memories, sharing our joys, ruminating about speed bumps along the way, and exploring my own thoughts, which helps clear my head.

I think biology has also hardwired me to think about what I'm imparting to the next generation and try my darndest to be a good parent, like all other parents before me.