Self-Care at Three

First of all, hello again.

Hannah is about to turn three, a bittersweet little miracle that defies belief.  In just about every moment of the day, I simultaneously mourn and rejoice in her growing up.  I miss so much about having a baby, love so much about every new day, and am astonished as I watch her become a PERSON.  Not simply "my" baby, "my" child, but a fellow human being who is developing a moral compass and figuring out how she will relate to the rest of the world, how she will experience joy, and how she will take care of herself.

The primary lesson of my summer, courtesy of my child, has been to LET IT HAPPEN.  When I don't, I create a rather impressive power struggle while bidding farewell to my mental health, all in just under 4 seconds.  When I do, I do things like:

• Spend a half hour trying on hats at Whole Foods, right at dinner time, just because it makes us both laugh
• Wander around Fred Meyer, talking and browsing the aisles with my little person, for an hour and a half.  We leave with a Minnie Mouse water bottle, and she is so proud.
• Take pictures of her posing with the 40-foot bear in front of Brown Bear Car Wash (her idea)  
• Do yoga on the grass at the zoo, Hannah in down dog next to me
• Watch her run barefoot, squealing with joy, through the grass

It seems like a logical enough choice, but in the moment, when I feel for whatever reason that I need to have control, and that what I am saying needs to happen MUST in fact happen, I forget.  I forget about the joy that happens when you let go. 

Recently on a family trip to the zoo, bullets #4 and 5 actually happened. There was free yoga on the lawn, Hannah was totally into it, and that was all she wanted to do.  I was into it for about 20 minutes, but when she was done with the yoga and it was becoming a challenge to contain her, I decided that what we should be doing is seeing the animals.  Because we hadn't just done that 4 days earlier?  Because that's what the zoo is for?  At any rate, my insisting she bend to my will resulted in her will getting stronger.  After chasing her, still barefoot, into a crowd, I was mad.  I went from ujayi breath to pissed off with a quickness, in lockstep with my attachment to a particular agenda. 

So we're walking through the zoo exhibits, the three of us just not synced up.  No one was really having that much fun, it seemed, but we were doing what you're supposed to do at the zoo, damnit!  (By contrast, doing yoga and letting Hannah run through the grass, we were all three laughing and feeling the love.)  Finally, at the giraffe exhibit, Hannah did what neither of her parents were wise enough to do.  She said "I'm taking a time out for myself."  (We don't do punitive time outs, so her only association with the term is simply stepping back, taking a break.)  She proceeded to sit down on a bench and just CHILL for a minute.  Such a better solution than nagging or being cranky.

Now that a few weeks have passed, I look back and realize how proud I am of that moment.  She must see us do that, right?  And it stuck.  I often fail to take time-outs for myself, and it doesn't do anyone any favors.  I wish for Hannah the mindfulness to know she is out of balance, and the wisdom to act on that calmly and kindly, right away.  What a reminder this little time out was for me.  (And who knew a trip to the zoo could pack so much wisdom?!) 

So this is the sweet part.  Yes, she is growing up way too fast. And yes, I love who she is becoming.