This was written nearly 3 years ago during a time where the sun seemed to finally bring us out of the darkness. Our Sarah was a colic baby and for anyone that has had such a child, it is something hard and something you don’t forget… nor do you believe someone when they say that they won’t cry forever.
I have to say that while I considerably suck in the strict structure department, I do love a consistent bedtime. My babies are in bed, not only sleeping, but resting from a day spent out in the sunshine and doing this and that with mom and dad. Funny, a lot of times I couldn’t really tell you specifically what we do each day, but we seem to land on our pillows exhausted from the activity. Sarah Doodle is sleeping like a trouper, usually in bed each night between 8 and 8:30. Ava is a little more a stickler, not getting there until 9, but I just can’t seem to worry about it, simply because we have a quiet time to rock and talk about our day. Or rock and watch Toopy and Binoo. Or rock and discuss all the reasons why it IS bedtime, while she argues that point that it is not.
It’s been a big week with me working all of Peter’s days off, leaving him to sort out the details of bedtime with his daughters. A feat never attempted until Tuesday of this week. And it worked out perfectly. I had told him before that he needed to spend time with his youngest girl. He was still scared of her crying, scared of her starting and never stopping, scared he wouldn’t know what to do or if he did then not doing it right anyways. So I told him that he needed to get over himself, that she could feel his anxiety, and that she, and really, he, had to learn to trust him and his ability to be a great dad. Because I knew he could. He just had to see it for himself. And they made it. And they giggled and talked and discovered that Sarah has this great big laugh just waiting to come out and pounce on whoever is nearby. And through it all I think he finally figured out that he could take care of his family outside of a paycheck. And really, that’s worth more than all the money in the world.
My friend Sarah was here visiting from Cuba. She works for immigration and her next stop will be Cairo for 2 years beginning this coming summer. Ava was confused by all the “Sarah’s”, and Big Sarah, versus Sarah Doodle didn’t always clear her mind, but we managed. Big Sarah was actually part of Sarah Doodles naming. While she is named after my great grandmother, it was the spirit in my friend Sarah that sealed the deal. She has lived life with gusto and fearlessly… or if she was frightened, she did it anyway. And I can’t help but think that’s a good lesson to pass on… that it’s ok to be scared, but never let it stop you… see the world…. explore the nooks and crannies.
Tonight we tried out my 2 year olds new rubber boots in all the puddles we could find around the neighbourhood. She told me that she was wet and tired, but that I was a “tan-tastic mama” and that she knew because she was a smart cookie. I a smart cookie, mama and you tan-tastic. And she told me she loved me. I wuv you mama. A wot. And I am reminded in all my inadequacies and short-falls that somewhere along this wandering road of my life that has been both overgrown and barren sometimes all at once, I got the important things right. I’m not perfect, but I am tan-tastic.