Lyla recently started going to Mother’s Day Out for the first time. I was well aware and accepting of the fact that we would go through the dreaded immune-building year. For those of you who haven’t experienced this, it is a horrible, but true, urban legend in which a child that has been kept at home suddenly is exposed to every germ, cold, illness, and plague that young ones seem to happily cart around. The child then brings said germs back home and immediately sickens every person within a block radius. I knew this was coming. I had no idea it would hit literally the second week of school. Keep in mind, she only goes two half days each week and this was the very beginning of September. It was still 97 degrees outside! My mind hadn’t even moved into the “flu season” realm. My trusty On Guard was still packed away in the medicine cabinet from last winter and we were in a “she’s starting school!!” blissful delusional daze.
Fast forward one month, and the whole family has been sick at least once, granny has been sick, auntie has been sick (neither of whom live with us), and Lyla has had two different viruses. Neither of which luckily have involved anything serious like fever or stomach bugs, just a never ending supply of drippy noses and the harmonious sounds of wet coughing at 6am. I slather her with oils several times a day, literally do a happy dance when she chokes down her medicine, and have run the humidifier and diffuser enough to turn her room a lavender and eucalyptus-infused sauna. We’re managing. She hasn’t even missed a day of school (which she absolutely loves btw!), although I do imagine she picks up a fresh batch of toddler cooties during every session. Nonetheless, I thought we were getting on pretty good. Until….sleep regression.
What the hell?? Excuse me if my first time parent is showing, but who knew these creatures go through 72 sleep regressions over the course of 28 months?! Let’s be clear, I am a great mom. However, I am a horrible person all around when I am sleep-deprived (or hungry….but I digress). Suddenly my child that happily goes down for nap and bedtime was awake for three hours in the dead of night. Yes, she had a stuffy nose and cough, but not oils nor medicine nor bribes would get this child back asleep until she decided it was time…..at 3am. I’m not a cry it out mom (I cry plenty, but I’m not a fan in the parenting sense), so it was a zombie shuffle of rocking, laying her down, creeping out of the room, laying down in my bed, and immediately being pulled back up by the sounds of her cries. It was awful and by night two of this, I was irritable and desperate.
You will not find me pushing religion too much in my writing. I am a very spiritual Christian, but I grew up non-denominational and still consider my relationship with God to be a personal matter. However, I do pray….a lot. I also believe in the power of positive thoughts and have used mantras to get through some tough times. Whether divine intervention, or desperate delirium, my brain somehow produced a 3am thought that I recited in my head over and over and over until Lyla finally allowed me to go to sleep. It consisted of three simple but powerful words that have now worked their way into my daily parenting attempts: peace, patience, and perspective.
Peace. Peace of mind….peace and quiet…..a huge piece of chocolate cake. Anything that would bring me some comfort and take the agonizing anxiety away. Peace was what I was craving, and this was the first word that appeared in my mantra. I have always experienced bouts of anxiety when Lyla cries at nap or bedtime. Usually it’s because I don’t know whether to let her work it out or intervene. Every book and Google search will reaffirm that whatever you’re doing is wrong, so I typically stare at the monitor whilst my heart goes into bongo mode. However, uttering this one word helped with my sky-high anxiety immensely. I was almost ordering myself to calm down and breathe slowly. We say so much negative stuff to ourselves (especially as we learn how to parent) that it was a nice change of pace to have a helpful voice in my head not asking, but telling me to relax. That everything was going to be ok. They say that babies can pick up on parents’ stress, so I can only imagine that as I calmed down, it helped her to as well.
Patience. If this isn’t the holy grail mantra of parenting as a whole, I don’t know what is. I am very much a “live in the moment” person and am not patient by nature. Due to this personality characteristic, every phase with my daughter feels as though it will last a lifetime while in reality most only last days and weeks at the most. Patience to know that this is only a few nights of sleeplessness. Patience to remember that she is only two and will eventually sleep through the night consistently. Patience with this precious, but very trying, toddler when I feel like losing it. Patience that she will eventually fall asleep and end this slumber(less) party.
Perspective. While the last word that appears in my trio, it is arguably the most powerful. Any time something scary or unfortunate happens in one’s life, out pops perspective. Whether it’s a personal health scare or a terrible news headline, for a brief moment everything else that takes up our mindspace in our day to day routine seems to be unimportant by comparison. Or at the least, put into proper order. Perspective is something that would keep us much happier if we held onto it better. However, once whatever said ordeal is over, we tend to let go of the gained perspective and get worked up over little things all over again. I am guilty of this as much as anyone. But suddenly in my groggy mind, this word seemed to round out my prayer. Perspective. Everything in my life was actually wonderful. Yes, my child was on a sleep strike, but she was healthy. Yes, I was desperate for sleep, but it was because I had been blessed with a child. Something that not everyone is able to experience. Yes, raising a toddler is hard, but they only stay this little for such a short amount of time. Yes, this moment is tough, but everything else in my life is really damn good.
Getting the demeaning voices out of your head can be hard. Mommy guilt, insecurities, possibly hurtful words from others that resonate. Whatever they are, they can pull us down at a soulful level. When you can’t shake these negative thoughts, or are going through a challenging moment, drown them out. Mantras do work and it’s all about taking control of your brain in a positive way. Find the words that you need, tell them to yourself, then repeat, repeat again, say them over and over until they stick. When the bad thoughts or feelings creep back in, start all over. It takes some diligence, but the results can be more helpful than you think. The next time the baby has been crying for an hour, or the two year old throws their milk cup for the 53 time, or the tween rolls her eyes at you again: Peace, Patience, Perspective.
