Just when you get comfortable with a rhythm, routine, stage or phase, something changes.
(The same goes for rhythms, routines, stages, or phases you're uncomfortable in, too, They usually don't last forever.)
Some regions have a similar mantra for the weather: If you don't like the weather here, just wait five minutes.
The weather is much more steady here where I live. It generally ranges from 60-80 degrees Fahrenheit during the day, all year long. Parenthood, on the other hand, sometimes feels like an ongoing series of transitions, and those steady plateaus in-between often feel too short for comfort.
I'm in one of those transitions right now. I had recently been extolling the glories of afternoon quiet time to some friends of mine. Summer had been great, an even more productive time for me than normal for writing and blogging stuff. We would play all morning and then after lunch the kids would each go in their separate rooms (Gigi in mine) for naps or Quiet Play Time. I would have a couple of (mostly) blissful hours to myself to do things like eat a complete meal in peace, surf Instagram, read a few chapters, or do some writing.
Then. We finally took Hallee's paci away last week (cue music of doom: duh-duh-duh).
Let's just say on the first day, after a pretty good night (surprisingly) when Daddy made the The Call, I texted him with the desperate, and dramatic, words: You killed naptime.
I knew it was time. I wasn't blaming him per se. But seriously, my afternoons as I knew them, seemed OVER.
We've had lots of crying. Poor Hallee is hoarse (I think she and Gigi are naturally prone to a raspy voice, especially during bouts of lots o' crying). And I'm praying her through this, and trying to focus on the nice, cuddly moments, instead of on the throwing-board-books-at-the-door moments.
It's been a week now. We're still in transition. But things are improving. I may or may not have bribed my kids to have a good quiet time today. Desperate measures, I'm telling ya. Because my kids are different people when they get the rest they need. And today we needed a restful reset.
(I keep telling myself that if I had to suddenly alter the way I'd slept for my whole life, it would be a bit of a shock. That helps me be more compassionate and have more grace with her.)
So here we are, coping with the new normal. Which will, naturally, change again soon I'm sure... probably in the next few weeks when we go camping and road-tripping, or in a month or so when school starts.
Of course, we all know how fleeting childhood is, so none of this is really surprising to me. It's just another one of those reminders to take a deep breath and remember it's just a season, which, in turn, reminds me that the sweet, beautiful moments are fleeting as well.
So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay. ~Robert Frost