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My first born is two months old and currently asleep cuddled in my arms (thank you Blogger for iPhone). In the few short weeks he's been alive, I already feel the tug of how best to raise him. It isn't as simple as where to birth him, how to feed him, or which brand of diapers is best. I already feel the tug of parenting on the grand scale.
Is it my job to teach him independence? Self-soothing? That sometimes life requires you to patiently wait even if it makes you cry?
Or is it my job to teach him....I can't even put these words I want to say in a way they seem positive. We only have negative associations for them. Dependence. Co-dependence. Neediness.
If we go back to Creation, we discover the only terrible thing about earth, while it was still in its perfect, sinless place: man was alone. Perhaps that's the problem: no one believes in Creation any more. It follows then, we also embrace aloneness under the code name of independence.
I'm not saying I want my son, at age forty, living in my home, not paying rent, jobless by choice, video game addict and couch potato. I would be enabling.
Ah, another beautiful word with a dark shadow cast across it by our love affair with independence.
God made man to meet God's aloneness. Then he made woman to meet man's aloneness. Perhaps some will call this heresy, but I want to conclude therefore, that while God is our first need, He Himself admitted He was not enough. That He created us to also need each other.
After nine weeks of sleep deprived nights, I have felt desperate for my son to sleep better. But I wrestle with the undercurrent of the advice I find in books and friends. Do I let him cry? How long? Is it good for him to learn to self-soothe? Is it good for him to cry because it gets his energy out? Do I let him sleep in bed with me, cuddling all night long, so he knows he is loved and comforted? Or is sometimes letting him cry, the ultimate act of love, since he needs sleep for proper brain development (and Mommy needs sleep in order to cope and care for baby).
Perhaps I am philosophizing too much, adding a hidden underscore to a simple, practical decision each parent makes based on preference and eventually, degrees of desperation. But I see silent underscores writing the rhythm of our children's lives every day.
We all want our kids to have "the best." But what is "best?" The expensive toy they have been wanting for three years, or a simpler life? Soccer and ballet and music and swim team or quiet time at home? A bigger house in a safer neighborhood with better schools, or mom staying home from work? We answer these questions and more, a hundred times a day, and at critical intersections in the life of our family. And the underscore that resonates deep in our instinct, guides the smallest and greatest decisions.
Is less more, or is more, more?
And we find the words to describe our life to others, that shed a positive light on the music we choose.
Anyone who has been a parent longer than a month, knows they don't know everything. Knows they will be scraping by trying desperately to figure it out the rest of their lives.
If I soothe him when I can, avoiding crying for the most part, can I teach him togetherness and comfort? If I let him cry, can I teach him self-reliance? Or is that too much philosophy for such a simple thing?
Perhaps. But it's worth considering the philosophies that write our score. Simplicity. Activity. Comfort. Independence. Busyness. Quietness. Friends. Family. Stuff. Creativity.
Our philosophies exist, guiding us, whether we have named them or not. I think it's worth taking the time to name them. So we can choose them. Or identify and intentionally reject them.
I believe in comfort.
I believe in simplicity.
I believe in time rather than things.
I believe in togetherness and interdependence.
I believe Jesus is our foundation, our center, and our purpose.
These, and others I will discover and name, are my score. Now I just need to dance to it.
