I’m writing this with a view of cats snoozing peacefully on my bed, nestled up against the huge pile of freshly laundered clothes that’s been sitting there all day. Over the monitor I can hear the swing in the nursery, click-clack, click-clack, as Will has finally succumbed to a substantial nap — one that started, after a somewhat mystifying day, just after 4:30 pm. It’s now 6:00, and I’m wondering do I wake him? Do I let him keep sleeping?
These days I often find myself thinking that having a baby is like playing an elaborate guessing game or reading a Choose Your Own Adventure book. Choose wisely, and you get a cheerful baby from a Johnson & Johnson commercial. Choose poorly, and your baby will spend naptime rolling around and giggling, and end the day a crying, overtired mess. If I hadn’t quite figured it out during Will’s first five months, I know it now: I’m not always going to guess right. I can’t do it all.
I can’t do it all — not even close. All I can do is the best I can. I (like everyone else) am surrounded by judgment calls. But some days my intuition is clueless, and my good intentions are waylaid by the realities of life. My days can’t always match up with the idyllic, perfect vision I have for them, much as I might want them to. The laundry piles up on the bed, my lunch is a pb&j at 3:30 in the afternoon, Will winds up napping in the swing again. I look up and suddenly it’s dinnertime, and I never did get that post-run shower. The day just disappears ahead of me while I’m frantically chasing after it, trying to catch up.
So on days like today, all I can do is the best I can.
Baby bears don’t nap, apparently, but they sure are cute.
23 Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord.
I’m hoping tomorrow is an easier day, but even if it’s not, we’ll be just fine. We’ll just do the best we can.