I had goals, friends, very serious blog goals.  We were rockin’ it, too, you and me!

To meet such goals, I bought the domain for this site- 10 years after that first post-  and restored or created accounts for Sothisisbliss with Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram!  (Please, please stalk me in all of those places.)  I even blogged every weekday for 30 days!  And you came!  And you kept coming back!  About 20 of you would visit the blog a day, and 10 of you are kind enough to follow me.  (Bless your crazy souls!)

But then this mister hit 4 months old.  He graduated to a crib- which required some new room assignments.

He also promptly stopped sleeping.  This, apparently, is a thing.  Four month olds the world over are staging sleep (and nursing) strikes, and parents the world over would give their right arms to make it stop!  I know because I googled infant sleep information compulsively- foolishly thinking someone may have solved this problem since I had my last 4 month old nearly 10 years ago.  Alas, sleep expertise has not reached solution levels for the 4 month age.  (Although some people who claim to have all the answers to this problem and will tell you what they know for all sorts of not-so-small fees.)  “Most experts agree” that 4 months old is too young to sleep train.   I guess they still need to eat too often or whatever.

In the midst of delirium, it doesn’t really matter why- it’s just soul crushing to read over and over again that your situation is hopeless for at least another 4 weeks, and to know in your heart that all the advice for helping your baby sleep come the magic 5 month mark is suspect at best.   So don’t look for sleep advice here- except… well… okay…

1. Create a sane and manageable routine that feels right to you.
2. Expect a fair amount of night parenting.
3. For Heaven’s sake, care for yourself- because insanity is always an inch away in parenting.)

Seriously, though, sleep deprivation is my kryptonite.  I was (and am) crazy person, zombie tired most of the time… It would have been enough of an interruption by itself.  But Eliza, who is always happy to oblige, and who can never be left out, tripped over a curb, and wah-lah:

 

So we dressed and showered and otherwise assisted the broken girl.  Also, we hosted a cousin who is small, which seems like such a small thing, but there’s a kind of amnesia that sets in when you don’t live with small people anymore- You forget how much small people need from you.  I loved doing this puzzle when he visited:

And then there’s Sam, who spent her first week of youth camp away from home- a girls’ retreat camp with other youth from our church.  And I realized-  I completely and totally take for granted how helpful she is.  Last week was especially rough without a sweet sister to tend the mister-who-knows-no nap while mommy, who is very good friends with naps, lies down to find her soul again.

 

In any case, I tell you all of this to share a a truth that takes great effort to live carefully and purposefully (for me, at least):

Choose the best, and then let go.

I could have clung desperately to the momentum I had gained.  I could have continued blogging- tending my social media accounts- networking with other bloggers.    I knew, though- because I know myself better than I used to- that while tending 4 year olds, showering and dressing the injured, packing and repacking the adolescent, and rocking and rocking and rocking the tired, I may lose my small helping of sanity for the sake of being a blogger.  So I let the blog rest, and I’m glad I did.

Now that we’re *sort of back to a reasonable rhythm, and I think I can string words together coherently again, I’m especially desperate for readers.

Well, tentatively, anyway.

Because I don’t want to waste a second now that I know how quickly they go from tiny to teen.

What about you?  What can you let rest this week to be a better you?

(Please, please comment– I have goals, see?)

p.s.  Here’s another one of those sermons that I revisit often to remind myself to prioritize my most precious gifts:  Good, Better, Best.

p.p.s.  There’s hope: