Doing Nothing With Daniel

"I went to a bookstore and asked the saleswoman, 'Where's the self-help section?' She said if she told me, it would defeat the purpose." --George Carlin
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I've been reading a few self-help books lately. Most of them are related to personal finance (you'll probably hear about them in some later post), but I also recently read one called Simplify Your Life: 100 Ways to Slow Down and Enjoy the Things That Really Matter by Elaine St. James. Some of her suggestions were helpful (e.g. go with patterned carpet because it hides spots), some I was already doing (e.g. don't buy clothes that need dry cleaning), and some was a bit too hardcore simple for me (e.g. don't make your bed; skip the holidays).

One idea that I initially filed in that last category was her suggestion to "do nothing" for one day a month. Even if this was remotely possible for a mother of two young children, I'm not sure I'd want to spend an entire day just communing with the universe and the dust motes.

To my surprise, though, I've since realized that "nothing" is one of my favorite things to do with Baby Daniel. When we're the only ones awake in the house I love to just cuddle him close or watch him stare intently at random objects in the room. Sometimes he looks at me and we have fun little cooing conversations, but most of the time it's just peaceful and soothing to quietly be together, doing "nothing."

Getting in Touch with My Inner Child

As a parent, I often find myself doing things I never would have imagined in the B.C. years (before children). And I'm not just talking about diapers and spit-up, though those could each be a post of their own. But I digress.

When Daniel wakes up hungry, I often bounce him a little and say, "Shhhhhhhhh," to soothe him. Well, lately I've noticed that when I having in a particularly stressful moment, I say, "Shhhhhhhhh," and bounce myself up and down. I'm sure it looks strange, but it actually helps.

I've also noticed that I'm picking up some Joy-speak for certain things. She calls water "fuff-fuff" and blankets "bittuhs," and when I'm talking to her I find that I use her "words" for those items, even though she understands the more standard terms for them.

Of course, Joy likes following our lead, too, especially at mealtimes. She doesn't necessarily eat what we eat (alas), but she does insist on sitting in a big chair, eating on a big plate, and using big utensils. The other day we were having yogurt with lunch, and since I didn't relish the idea of Joy inevitably spilling huge spoonfuls of it onto the floor, I decided it would be easiest to just get out a little, plastic child spoon for my place and ask her which color she wanted for herself. As we sat there eating our Yoplait, I reflected that eating with red utensils was kind of fun, and that it's a pity they don't make adult-size ones. Ah, the simple pleasures you experience as a parent.

Bleh

Today marks an interesting milestone in my ongoing quest to focus on the positive in life. Miraculously, I feel no real desire to vent about all the negative aspects of this day. Unfortunately, I don't have the mental energy to think of anything that might have been positive about it. I'm sure there must have been something . . .

Mom, What's A Book?

Today I was browsing through the Fall 2008 issue of BYU Magazine, and I noticed an article about how birth order can impact the amount of parental time children receive. A recent study showed that "firstborn children get about 3000 more hours of parental time between the ages of 4 and 13 than secondborns." This may explain why firstborns "generally get more and better education, score higher on tests, and end up with jobs that pay more."

There may be multiple reasons for the difference in parental time. A parent with multiple children often has to divide time between them. Also, more children may mean more chauffeuring to extracurricular activities, and consequently less family time. Moreover, while firstborns only have a parent to teach them new things, secondborns often prefer to play with their sibling, so big brother or sister may be the one who teaches words and activities instead of Mom or Dad.

One first/secondborn difference that really struck me was the fact that parents often spend much more time reading to their first child than their second. When I read that, I realized that when Joy was an infant I used to read her multiple books a day, but the only time I read anything to Daniel is when Joy happens to bring a book over while he's on my lap. Even reading with Joy has become rare because life is busier and she often requests other activities instead.

I want both my children to experience the joy of reading, and I'm glad this article woke me up to the fact that I've let reading be sidelined lately. I think I'll introduce Daniel to a few board books this afternoon.

Wouldn't Miss It

I'm an advisor in the Young Women program at church, and once a month I teach a lesson on some assigned topic. This week's lesson is on "Attitudes about Our Divine Roles" of wife and mother. I must say there's a certain irony in the fact that this lesson fell to me, because motherhood was a serious leap of faith for me. Some girls gravitate toward babies from the moment they can walk; I was never one of those girls. My interests lay elsewhere, and when I was around children (especially tiny ones) I never had a clue what to do with them. I couldn't imagine what I would do with a few children of my own all day, every day.

My decision to become a mother was a considerable act of faith in God and His prophets. They promised me that motherhood was part of God’s plan for me, that when we accept His callings He helps us fulfill them, and that I would find greater happiness in parenthood than in any other role. I didn’t exercise my faith in vain. I was amazed at how easily I took to parenthood, and I’ve learned more about godliness from being a parent than I learned from my mission or any class I’ve ever taken.

Tonight, as I worked on my lesson with Daniel nestled against me in a sling, I reflected on whether I truly had found my greatest happiness as a mother. I realized that, much as I love my friends, enjoy my hobbies, and cherish my missionary service, the sweetest memories of my life are connected with my little family. They involve cuddles with Daniel, or Phillip helping out when I’m tired, or Joy calling out “Mama!” when I come home and running up to get a kiss on the cheek. They involve together time with my sweetheart, and witnessing the milestones of our children.

While motherhood certainly has its stressful moments, it has also yielded the sweetest, happiest experiences of my life. If I hadn’t trusted the Lord and His servants, I would have missed out on so very much.

My Daughter, Myself

Joy was in good spirits most of the day, but she started acting out a little this evening (throwing things, refusing to help clean up, etc.). As I did my best to remain positive and respond effectively to each situation, I realized I was having a much easier time feeling affection for Daniel than for Joy. I think a big reason for that is that my relationship with Daniel is much less complicated at this point.

I think Daniel’s sweet, he finds me comforting, and I don’t have to worry about how to discipline him or teach him good principles. By contrast, many of my interactions with Joy involve her pushing her limits and my buttons, and my struggles to teach and promote good behavior aren’t always effective.

While I might wish my relationship with Joy was as sweet and simple as what I share with Daniel, I can’t help thinking that my relationship with my Heavenly Father is more like what I experience with Joy. I’m a basically good child, but I repeatedly try His patience in some ways. Yet He loves me anyway, and if I hope to become more like Him, I need to cultivate a similar ability to love despite challenges, not in absence of them.

More Faith Than Fear

The next few days are going be crazy and unpredictable. Since there's no way to plan how to handle them effectively, I've been trying to not think about them at all. Surprisingly, I discovered that stressed me out more. Then I remembered a principle from Tuesdays with Morrie.

Morrie was slowly dying from a chronic disease, but rather than mentally fleeing fear, he acknowedged it whenever it reared its head then he consciously set it aside. I'm trying to do likewise, acknowledging that the next few days will be demanding, but also putting faith in God, in myself, and in the family and friends committed to helping us through. After all, worry contributes nothing useful, and it robs us both of the anticipation of the future and enjoyment of the present.