Wonderful, Awesome, Amazing – But Not Perfect

March 7, 2014 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 11 Comments

“He’s perfect” has been my mom’s refrain about my son since the day he was born. While I adore my child, I wince every time she says it. It makes me want to yell out, “He isn’t!” Because to me, perfect is confining and static, the opposite of my vibrant, growing baby.

Imperfect isn’t bad, just flawed. It’s challenging, offering us space to evolve. Imperfections connect us so that we can fill in the gaps of each other’s weaknesses.

I haven’t always held this attitude; it took decades for me to adopt. I’m a recovering perfectionist. My mom tells a story about me as a baby playing with a shape-sorter. After several minutes of fitfully cramming a shape in the wrong hole, I violently threw down the toy. While I became less physical about it, I maintained a philosophy that said, “If you’re going to do something, you should Do It Right.” Unfortunately, my version of “Doing It Right” meant I held impossibly high standards that even I couldn’t meet. A fear of not living up to my potential lurked in the background, a monster that could erase my hard work and expose me as a fraud.

Entering parenthood, I realized that this mindset just wasn’t going to work. Contrary to the parenting guides, there is no One Right Way. There’s Right for Now or Not Too Bad or The Best that I Can Do. Parenting is a slick, ever-changing thing, like one of those water worms that slips out of your hands. Every time you think you finally have a grasp, something changes, whether it’s your child, the situation, or the expectations.

Pursuing perfection locks you in, denies you the fluidity you need. One of my favorite parenting books, Babies in the Rain, compares raising children to a dance. In this duet, the child leads and you follow, always working together. But if you focus exclusively on following the rhythm, you turn it into a series of stilted steps. I know how unhelpful this perspective is in music; my jazz teacher was always telling me to experience the emotion rather than only paying attention to the beats. His response frustrated me at the time – how can I “let go” if I can’t even get the fundamentals right? But now, I can only think of how paralyzing this attitude would be in parenting.

Personally, the biggest challenge to my perfectionism has been sleep, that intimidating foe. At first, I approached the “sleep through the night” goal the same way I approach every major goal – by creating a individualized, step-by-step plan. I formulated a approach that started with not nursing my baby to sleep and over time, shortening the period of time I would rock him. Then I would move to holding him in my lap and eventually not needing to pick him up at all as he fell asleep peacefully in his crib. Hilarious.

His first cold presented the initial obstacle, and then the second and third ones came along. As I would do anything to help him (and me) get some rest, not nursing to sleep went out the window. Some nights he mistakenly falls asleep nursing and I don’t have it in me to wake him up. We’ve finally gotten to the point where he can fall asleep in my lap, but not until after several minutes of violently fighting it. Tactics that work one week stop working the next. And teething keeps finding a way to interrupt our progress.

In response, I’ve started shrugging my shoulders and carrying on. What else can I do? He doesn’t know or care that I have a plan. I want to follow the lead of my partner instead of dragging him around the dance floor.

Besides restricting your flexibility, pursuing perfect also blinds you to beauty. It catches you up in a whirlwind, never allowing you to see how much good you already have in your life. A recent article talks brilliantly about how “leaning in” ala Sheryl Sandberg, otherwise known as believing you can do everything if only you try hard enough, has made the author miserable. In the past, when I’ve tried to be perfect, I’ve just stressed myself out.

Fortunately, I’ve been more content post-baby than I’ve ever been. I love spending time with him, watching him just being himself. If I was preoccupied with being perfect, I’d be vacuuming the carpet instead of watching him peer under it with glee. (What can possibly be so interesting under there?) I’d be horrified with him biting the restaurant’s granite tabletop rather then giggling at his questionable taste. I would have been worried about his lack of progress when he was only crawling backwards instead of taking photos of him happily stuck under his crib. I wouldn’t let him grab or gnaw on his books’ pages and so not experience the joy of him learning to turn the pages on his own.

These days, besides the doctor’s appointments and other logistical requirements, I have just a single parenting goal. My husband, paragon of laid-back approaches, permanently added to our weekly To-Do list “Raise [Sprout] to be a good person.” Not perfect, just good.

I love my son too much to see him as perfect. And I love him too much to try to be perfect myself.

Babbling Like a Brook

March 5, 2014 / Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

Sprout has been “talking” a ridiculous amount and I (mostly) love listening to him. Generally, he gets stuck on a noise for a week and then moves on to another one the next week. While he doesn’t yet have words – even as the proudest parent, I’d be fooling myself if I thought so – he definitely communicates. Sometimes he’s communicating through his words and sometimes through his expressions. And sometimes he’s just making noises for fun.

“Creative” babbling runs in my family. When I was a baby, I sounded so confident that some people thought I was actually talking in another language. When one person asked, “Is she speaking another language?” my mom dead-panned, “Yes, Japanese.” Then that person asked, “Really?” resulting in a good chuckle from my mom. It’s worth noting that I’m so white that we joked Sprout would be translucent.

Now, I wish I maintained my knowledge of the secret baby language. Although I can figure out what Sprout wants most of the time, sometimes I’m just baffled. At those times, I turn to him and say, “Little dude, I wish I knew what you were saying, but I don’t speak Baby.” This skill would be particularly useful when he wakes up and whines in the middle of the night. It would be great to know if he’s hungry or his teeth hurt or he just wants to be cuddled.

We’re trying to teach him baby sign language, but he won’t start using it for several more months. Plus, “teaching” him would probably stick a lot better if we did it consistently. The only one I regularly remember is “milk” and he probably won’t be signing until after he stops nursing anyway. At least Chris and I are learning some American Sign Language.

While Sprout has a number of different “expressions,” my favorite is his tendency to say, “blah blah blah.” It’s like he’s making fun of us self-important adults, talking about silly things that aren’t important to babies. It’s very reminiscent of the teacher in Peanuts – wah wah wah. I smile and repeat, “blah blah blah” back to him, knowing that his commentary is probably right.

Although that’s my favorite noise, the funniest is his tendency to make shockingly realistic farting noises. A couple of months ago, he became an expert at blowing raspberries, far better than I’m able to. But in the last few weeks, he’s taken that skill up a notch. Because his uncanny ability to sound like a whoopee cushion is hilarious, our laughter encourages him. Unfortunately, this is coming back to bite us, as he decided to make these rather graphic noises in the middle of church this week. Thankfully, our church is very kid-friendly and no one minded.

Unfortunately, Sprout’s latest noise appears to be shrieking. He isn’t in pain or anything – he’ll shriek and then have a huge grin the next second. Yesterday, he was testing his ability to make noises as loudly and at as high of a pitch as possible. I know he’s trying out his limits, but it’s hideously annoying. I do hope he’ll move on to something else soon.

As generally charming as his noises are now, I can’t wait until he starts talking. If he’s funny now, I’m sure he’ll be hilarious once I can actually understand him.

Dolphins and Other Funny Creatures

February 27, 2014 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 4 Comments

Last week, we visited the National Aquarium in Baltimore with my parents. While Sprout would have been happy looking at fish at the pet store, I’m glad we brought him. I embrace any chance I get to share wonder for nature. While he couldn’t see into the small exhibits, he loved standing in front of the large coral reef tank. In fact, he put his hand on the glass a few times, trying to catch the colorful fish swimming by.

But of all of the exhibits at the aquarium, one of the best is the Dolphin Discovery area. While I’m generally against dolphins being in captivity, the aquarium has a strong focus on education and doesn’t teach the dolphins unnatural behaviors. In addition, all of the dolphins were born there, except one from a different facility. As a result, they have a family pod like they would in the wild. While the aquarium has educational demonstrations, where the staff members talk about how interactions with the animals, the most interesting part is the underwater viewing area. It allows you to watch the dolphins hanging out as if you were under the water with them – swimming around, playing with their toys, and interacting with each other.

Despite the fact that it was the end of the day and he was quite tired, the dolphin viewing area was definitely Sprout’s favorite part. We stood him up and he watched them swoop through the water, fascinated by their movements. When he’s intently observing something, he usually has his “serious face” on. However, he was actually smiling this time!

It shouldn’t be surprising that Sprout loved the dolphins, as they’re my favorite animal. In fact, when I was a little girl, I wanted to become a marine biologist (but only in the summer).

As it so happens, Sprout and dolphins appeared to have a lot in common besides my fondness for them:

1) They both speak in their own “languages” that I don’t understand. Sprout “speaks” in a random strings of consonants and vowels, interspersed with grunts. The dolphins speak with clicks, whistles and squeals. Both are communicating, but heck if I know what either of them are saying.

2) They both enjoy things with fringe on them. The dolphins had a green toy made out of rubber that had a bunch of thin pieces hanging loosely off of it. Sprout is obsessed with the fringe on my scarf and has an ongoing fascination with tags.

3) They like playing in water. There’s a “splash zone” in the dolphin observation area for a reason. While Sprout hasn’t been fond of baths in the past, he’s learning to enjoy them more. He especially likes kicking his feet and splashing his hands when he first gets in.

4) Their movements seem random but have their own internal logic. The dolphins had a definite purpose to where they swam, but it was hard to tell what it was. Sprout has certain places he heads for consistently – most of which end with him getting stuck under a piece of furniture – but I have no idea why he chooses them.

5) They both love interacting with people, even if neither party knows what on earth is going on in the head of the other. Both babies and dolphins have thought processes and perspectives that are alien to human adults. But they both fortunately think we’re worth watching and engaging with. I think Dylan and the dolphins could have watched each other for much longer.

6) They have a sense of unfettered joy.

The Big 31

February 24, 2014 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 3 Comments

Today is my 31st birthday. I don’t know how I expected to feel at 31 when I was younger, but I don’t think this is it. Perhaps the best word is hopeful.

I know most people make a big deal about their 30th birthday, but for me, the gap between 30 and 31 seemed far bigger than 29 and 30. Last year, I was on the cusp of life changes, five months pregnant and heading into my third decade. This year, I am thoroughly entrenched in mommyhood, my entire world influenced by the little being who entered my life last June.

Part of this difference is the speed of my life in the last five years compared to the five before. I had the same job and lived in the same city for the five years before this one (2008-2013). The only major change was that we bought a house, although that didn’t affect my daily life as much one might think. In comparison, in the previous five years before, I lived in five different neighborhoods on two different continents, held seven different jobs (including internships), graduated college, got married and earned my masters degree. Just thinking about that constant change is tiring! So having an upheaval in my life again after five years of calm made the last year seem much longer than the one before.

Fortunately, this has been one of the best years of my life. I’ve taken to motherhood even better than I anticipated. While I still sometimes panic at my incompetency, I feel much more comfortable in the role than I thought I would. More importantly, I absolutely love it. Once we got past the almost impossibly hard first two months, it’s kept getting better. Not every day is rainbows and even my baby can be pretty gross, but there are more times than not that I feel overwhelmingly lucky. I’m still tired almost All of the Time, but it’s usually the feeling of accomplishment, not desperation. Sprout is an amazing little person and I feel so blessed to be his mom. He even gave me a birthday present, although obviously not of his own accord. Last night, after four months of teething, he finally got one of his teeth in! (And he didn’t even bite me.) While some people regret the loss of “wild and crazy” times in their 20s or before children, I never really had that anyway. I’ve never drank much and hardly went out in D.C. because Chris worked weekend nights. In fact, now we’re doing more on weekends with Sprout than we did before he was born. We’ve already visited art museums, gamed with friends, and traveled home to our families. This summer, we look forward to hiking, camping, and biking. And although we see our friends less than we did, we still maintain those friendships. At my birthday party yesterday when I was apologizing for our lack of seats, my friend Leslie said, “Shannon, you don’t have a lack of seats. You have a surfeit of friends.” For someone who has always been socially awkward, it was phenomenal to realize that.

Besides the obvious, this year had a key difference from all of my previous best years – its potential. Most of the previous best years of my life, like my senior years of high school and college, came at the end of a stage of life. I had settled in, made friends and felt comfortable, but then needed to leave. Even a lot of the enjoyment during the year I got married was from living in the U.K. and attending grad school, which was only a year long. (I had a compressed program.)

In contrast, this year is the beginning of an era, just a preview of what is to come. I feel experienced, but far from old. And I’m genuinely excited to see what comes next.

He Holds the Whole World on His Back

February 16, 2014 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 6 Comments

The Sleep Turtle is our bedtime friend.

I started the world’s slowest sleep training routine several months ago. We’ve worked up to Sprout falling asleep in my arms without nursing or rocking. However, he would only do so after squirming and crying for a good 15 minutes. Listening to him cry and getting whacked in the arm and chest were both pretty painful.

About a week and a half ago, the idea came to me to let him play in his crib with the Sleep Turtle before sitting down with him. We had introduced the Sleep Turtle (a stuffed nightlight that projects stars on the ceiling) at the beginning of the sleep training as a transitory toy. However, I only let it play for a couple of minutes before putting it away and picking him up. With this new approach, I left him in his crib with the Turtle and sat down on the nearby chair. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t fall asleep on his own. Instead, he played with it for 10 minutes before he started to cry. But the real benefit came once I picked him up. While there was a bit of squirming and whining, he passed out in only a few minutes. It was clear that the turtle helped him calm his busy, ever-engaged mind and body. It’s been working well – with a few exceptions – ever since.

While there are versions of the same nightlight that use other animals, I find the Turtle a particularly appropriate choice. Several cosmologies, including Native American, Hindu, and Chinese traditions portray the universe as balanced on the back of a World Turtle. The idea of stars streaming out of the back of a turtle – even if they’re shifting between green, orange, and purple – is magical. Those stars transport the whole universe into your room, bringing something so distant close and intimate.

In fact, sitting in that dark bedroom with him, it feels as if the whole universe is right there in that little space. As if only the whole world would be okay if only he’d fall sleep. These moments block everything else in my life out, that little bundle of needs demanding my full attention.

The World Turtle reminds me of the story of an old woman at an astronomy lecture. Afterwards, she told the lecturer that she believed the world rested on the back of a turtle, to which the scientist said, “What is the tortoise standing on?” In response, she states, “It’s turtles all the way down!” While most people use the phrase to refer to the infinite regress problem (“the chicken or the egg”), Real Live Preacher, one of my favorite bloggers ever, uses it to talk about faith. Faith is knowing that everything you do balances precariously on the back of a turtle and another turtle and another turtle – and that’s okay. He says, “Faith is measured breathing in the face of uncertainty. Faith is turning your heart to faithful living when your mind has reached the end of its rope. Faith is the choice you make when you face the darkness.” Parenting is the most uncertain, challenging, and sometimes dark thing I’ve ever done. I’ve needed more faith in myself and God as a mother than I’ve ever had in my life. I rely on faith in my skills even when I don’t feel like there’s proof. I rely on faith that I am doing the best I can. I rely on faith that love is really enough. The world may rest on the back of a turtle, but in parenthood, it’s love all the way down.

Goodnight, my Sleep Turtle. At bedtime, my son’s little world – and therefore mine – rests on your back.

Goin’ Mobile

February 10, 2014 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 2 Comments

Sprout is on the move! As I mentioned a couple weeks ago, he’s scooting backwards, although he’s closer to crawling backwards now. He can actually go in circles and most of the way across the house if we let him. Unlike when he stayed where we put him, he’s now giving us a perspective into what the world looks like from a baby’s point of view.

For one, it reminds me of what a luxury movement is. I’m fortunate in that I’ve never been immobile for a long period of time as an adult. In contrast, this is all totally new to him. The first time Sprout moved on his own, he looked surprised, wondering, “Why can’t I reach my toy that was in front of me?” The confusion turned to mild alarm when he first realized he wouldn’t be able to see us soon if he kept moving. By this point, he knows that we’ll return even if he doesn’t see us. But he had never been the one choosing to not be in the same vicinity as us. As he scooted into the hallway, we waved goodbye, giggling at the adorableness of his newfound freedom. If he was worried about leaving our view, he didn’t have any time to consider it – we promptly went to pick him up the minute he disappeared around the corner.

Now that he has the ability to explore on his own, it’s also much easier for him to investigate what’s interesting to him. Needless to say, it’s not what we as adults are interested in or would choose for him to be interested in. He still does enjoy his toys, which Chris places strategically around the room. That way, when Sprout is scooting, he can play with the toys as he encounters them.

But besides his toys, he’s very interested in the physical make-up of our living room and his bedroom. Edges of things seem to be particularly fascinating, including the edge of the carpet, the moulding on the wall, and the gaps in our hardwood floorboards. I think the contrasting textures and how these spaces transition from one type of object to another interests him. Plus, it’s apparently really fun to look under the rug. He’s also fascinated by objects that hold other objects, like bags and boxes. We keep our fleece blankets in a fabric box and he loves pulling at the blankets and the box. Similarly, we keep his toys in a bag and he thinks its more interesting to pull toys out of the bag than play with the toys themselves. Watching those gears in his head turn as he realizes that objects are actually separate from each other – a concept adults take for granted – is really fun.

I know that once Sprout is able to crawl and then walk, there will be no stopping him. (Unless we pick him up.) For now, I love just sitting on the floor and watch him take his first tentative moves towards being independent.

Songs to Grow On: A Children’s Music Primer

February 6, 2014 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 1 Comment

Songs to Grow On will be semi-regular feature on the blog, talking about children’s music, music not for kids but related to childhood, and random reminiscing from me on songs that were important to me as a kid.

Children’s music is a much-maligned genre. Some of it for good reason – Barney’s “I love you” song is intolerable in even the smallest of doses. I haven’t heard a single song by The Fresh Beat Band, but its name alone makes me shudder. Some of it is out of exhaustion born of repetition – even Love Reign O’er Me by The Who would be tedious the 30th time in a row. But despite its reputation, there’s some fairly good children’s music (and music appropriate for children) out there if you know where to look.

The Old-School Classics: Sometimes, it’s best to go back to the basics, as many of the musicians who follow are but poor imitations. Obviously, nursery rhymes were the first form of children’s music to exist. In addition to the music, a lot of nursery rhymes have accompanying hand motions, which are great for developing kids’ visual tracking and motor skills. If you don’t happen to remember the lyrics on your own, you can actually find whole albums of them. I particularly like the Mainly Mother Goose album by Sharon, Lois and Brahm, who actually put on the very first concert I ever attended.

While nursery rhymes have probably been around as long as nurseries, one of the first artists to popularize children’s music as a specific genre was Raffi. And his music is just as great as you remember it, especially if you like folk. He has fun riffs on classic songs and charming original material. We have The Singable Songs Collection, which is a great overview.

The Non-Children’s Musicians Making Children’s Music: Not all children’s music is made by people who cater only to the little ones. Some of the best stuff is done by artists who largely write for adults. In particular, art-rock geek favorite They Might Be Giants has a bunch of kids’ albums. We have Here Comes Science, with its hilarious songs about evolution and astronomy, but I’ve heard their others are good too. The Barenaked Ladies’ Snacktime album isn’t as educational, but it is quite entertaining. Of particular note is the title song, where they manage to cram in guest spots from a shocking number of famous folks including Rush’s Geddy Lee, Sarah McLachlan, and Weird Al. And this isn’t a new trend. Both Pete Seeger (who has recently been wonderfully honored in so many places) and Woody Guthrie put out albums of original material specifically for children. (Respectively, Birds, Beasts and Bigger Fishes and Songs to Grow On for Mother and Child.) In addition, some artists have one-off kids songs, like on this collection, although I can’t speak for its quality.

Non-Children’s Music that is Appropriate for Children: There’s a ton of music that wasn’t written for children, but nonetheless appeals to them. Obviously, it’s important that the lyrics are appropriate – I think most people would prefer not to inadvertently teach swears to their three-year-old or bring up adult subjects before you are ready to talk about them – but it’s good if the music is kid-friendly too. The best bet for fairly simple, melodic songs is going to older rock or folk-rock. In particular, The Beatles have a lot of lovely songs in this category, whether fun ones like Yellow Submarine or lullaby-like ones like Blackbird. A number of other artists have individual songs that reflect on childhood but are still appropriate for kids as well on otherwise adult albums, such as James Taylor’s Sweet Baby James, Billy Joel’s Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel), and Loggins and Messina’s House on Pooh Corner. (There are a couple of lullaby-like songs from other artists that are best avoided unless you’re prepared for some tough conversations like Harry Chapin’s Cats in the Cradle and James’ Lullaby!)

Movie and TV soundtracks: There are a lot of movies and TV shows with great songs, especially from the classic era of Disney musicals. Sprout doesn’t watch any TV right now, but in most cases you don’t need to have seen the movie to enjoy the songs. Other good possibilities include anything from The Jim Hensen Company (the Muppets, Fraggle Rock, Sesame Street) and kid-friendly musicals (Wizard of Oz, Sound of Music).

The “Radio”: Pandora sometimes comes up with some good options that I’ve never heard of. We usually use the Raffi station to start with. Unfortunately, commercials interrupt the music unless you subscribe.

While these are my favorite types, I know there are others some parents enjoy. For example, I think Led Zepplin done as lullabies is weird and vaguely distresses my musical sensibilities, but to each his or her own. Pregnant Chicken and Rants from Mommyland also have some fun lists.

What is your favorite music to play for kids?

Milestones to Milestones

January 30, 2014 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 6 Comments

The books make it sound as if baby milestones are obvious, when often they are anything but. Sprout’s path to various milestones has been unpredictable and the ambiguity sometimes makes me twitchy.

Sometimes, it’s unclear if he’s reached a milestone at all. Is he really sitting up if he supports himself with his hands? (Yes.) If he rolled from his front to his back when he was two months old several times but hasn’t for months, does that count? (Sort of? He did eventually do it again.) What if he’s so close to crawling that it seems immenent but he’s just missing one little piece? (No.) And how on earth am I supposed to tell if his vocalizations are consonant / vowel combinations or not? Does any baby outside of comics actually say, “Ah-goo?” (No idea still.)

Milestones can also be unpredictable in their timing. One week, Sprout was hardly putting weight on his feet. The next, he could stand on his own while holding on to something. I’m not entirely certain he wasn’t practicing in secret. Now, despite being able to stand with support for months, he hasn’t shown any signs of trying to pull himself up to standing.

The route to get to some milestones has been rather circuitous. Rather than crawling, Sprout has taken to scooting. But he only moves backwards! He leans back on his knees, as if he’s about to crawl. He then kicks his legs back, pushes his arms, and slides across the hardwood floor. It’s very funny to watch. I figure he’ll either start crawling soon or get really good at going backwards. In fact, he already looks behind him before he starts moving.

And then other milestones come as a complete and utter shock. On Monday, Chris was frustrated that Sprout wasn’t drinking much from the bottle. Every time Chris broke Sprout’s latch to adjust the pressure, Sprout would bat at it. Yesterday, Chris realized he wasn’t trying to grab it for himself – he was trying to push it towards Chris! When Chris took a couple of pretend sips, Sprout thought it was fantastic and then was willing to drink from it again. Chris may have been seeing things in an overly optimistic light, but certainly seemed like he was trying to share with his daddy! It’s possible Chris misinterpreted his actions, but if Sprout was trying to share, I guess he’s got a better grasp on that non-possessiveness concept than I realized.

Watching Sprout soak up experiences and exhibit new behaviors is exhilarating. I don’t have to worry; I just need to watch in wonder.

My Baby as Yoga Teacher

January 25, 2014 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 4 Comments

To get better at yoga, I could learn a lot from my baby. I’ve been reading the excellent, Kickstarter-funded book, Pedal, Stretch, Breathe. In it, the author walks cycling and yoga enthusiasts through yoga’s philosophical foundations. While I’ve been taking yoga classes for a long time, I’ve never explored the philosophical side of the practice. I don’t agree with all of it, but a lot of the principles serve as good areas of self-improvement. As I read, I realized how effortlessly Sprout embodies many of these principles. (Although there are a few to work on!)

Contentment (santosha): Sprout is an extraordinarily even-tempered baby. Ever since he was born, he’s only cried when he needed something specific. He sometimes gets whiny if he’s tired, but it’s miles away from the fussiness that a lot of infants display. And when he’s happy, his smile is radiant.

Non-violence (ahimsa): Sprout doesn’t know anger or meanness yet, so he doesn’t know intentional violence. But it doesn’t mean that he can’t hurt someone – I have scratches on my chest to prove it. As he gets older, we’ll work to teach him that not all violence is on purpose, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. (Or as the bloggers say, “Intent Isn’t Magic.”)

Truthfulness (satya): Sprout hasn’t developed the ability to lie or deceive. Nor does he understand the idea of someone being insincere towards him. He has no frame of reference for it, taking in the world as it presents itself to him. I am a truthful person, but even I can be cynical or fib to myself or others. Sprout is as exactly as he presents himself. If only we could all be so open and honest with ourselves and each other.

Non-stealing (asteya): He’s managed to steal a lot of my sleep. But then, I willingly give it, so is it really stealing?

Moderation (brahmacharya): Sprout generally takes what he needs, never more, never less (except for sleep). I suspect this will change rapidly with toddlerdom (“I want all of the toys!”), but we’ll deal with that issue as it emerges.

Non-possessiveness (aparigraha): I suspect that Sprout thinks everything belongs to him, including my hair. We’ll start working on this when we introduce the concept of sharing.

Cleanliness (saucha): Ha. Yeah, no.

Heat, fire and dedication (tapas): Babies are passionate about learning; they’re built for it and it takes up most of their time while awake. It’s amazing to watch him work so hard to do something that seems so simple, like reaching for a toy. It’s a good thing he’s dedicated to gaining these skills – he has a lot to learn!

Self-study (svadhyana): Sprout is constantly in the process of self-study. While most adults take their bodies for granted and know their limits, he simply doesn’t. One day he can’t sit up, the next day he can! As such, he’s constantly testing what his body can do. Now that he’s started some locomotion, I think this exploration will become even more exciting. I expect a few face-plants along the way.

Surrender (ishvara pranidhana): As anyone who has ever taken care of a newborn knows, they are a bundle of needs. They are completely dependent on you, whether they want to be or not. From my perspective, I’ve learned how important it is to ask for help. I’ve also learned that as a parent you have to surrender your sense of control; there will be times when you have no idea why something is happening, much less how to fix it. (I have never said, “I don’t know what to do!” in desperation more times in my life than during the last seven months.)

Although it isn’t one of the official yamas or niyamas, I’ve always associated the idea of being fully “in the moment” and aware of the world around you with yoga. Since the day he was born, Sprout has been extraordinarily observant. He is constantly watching and listening intently to what is going on around him. And he’s taught me to do the same. When I play with him, I’m fully engaged like I am in few other activities. As someone who constantly worries about “what comes next,” it’s a beautiful experience to interact with my baby who so lives in the so here-and-now.

Besides all of that, he does a mean baby cobra and happy baby.

We'll Eat You Up – We Love You So

The Adventures of a Mom Just Trying to Make a Difference