Fighting the Good

She rubs her big, blue eyes and fusses.

She pulls at her soft, downy hair and squirms.

She tugs at her sweet, little ears and cries.

She burrows her 90th percentile head into my shoulder and restlessly grabs at my shirt.

She’s nursed; she’s played; she’s eaten; she’s diapered; and the clock reads “nap time.”

I climb the 12 steep stairs to her owl-adorned room and turn on the sound machine. After securing the pacifier and nestling her in my arms, her eyelashes flutter and her eyelids fall. Cozy in my arms, I sway while her body rests.

Gently, I lay her tired frame in the middle of her crib and quietly tiptoe to the door and down the wooden, creaky stairs. More often than not, I make it down those stairs with a baby fast asleep.

But several times a week (without fail), our sweet baby girl fights with all her might.

And whatever the reason may be, she fights the sleep she needs the most.

I know that the sleep will calm her body, but she doesn’t know that.

So she fights.

I know that the sleep will rejuvenate her mind, but she doesn’t know that. 

So she fights.

I know that the sleep will grow her body, but she doesn’t know that. 

So she fights.

I know that the sleep is good for her, but she doesn’t know that. 

So she fights.

We had several of those nap-fighting times last week, and it was driving this mama to an annoyed and tired place.

After climbing the stairs for the fourth time in an hour, I pulled her from the crib and calmly said, “Evie, you need to sleep. I know you don’t think you do, but you do.” She, of course, understood that super well and immediately fell asleep the sleep battle continued for another 20 minutes.

Why purchase a gym membership to use a communal stair-climber when you have a baby who fights nap time for free?? Seriously, I have on my yoga pants, and I’m sweating…isn’t that the gym anyway? 

After climbing those stairs for a fifth time, I brought the bleary-eyed soul downstairs, and I kid you not…she lasted all of 30 minutes before she was a yawning, hot mess.

I’m not sure what clicked in that little strawberry-blonde head of hers, but she had decided the fight was over.

As I tiptoed down the stairs after completing a fairly grueling workout, I realized that I’m not a whole lot different than my nap-fighting Evie.

I, too, fight the very things that my Father knows I need the most.

I need a break, but I race and run.

I need help, but I decline and resist.

I need to pursue, but I neglect and retreat.

I need to listen, but I dismiss and speak.

I need to feel, but I stuff and deny.

I need to relinquish, but I restrict and control.

I need to reduce, but I add and upgrade.

I need to confront, but I surrender and avoid.

I need to give, but I refuse and withhold.

I need to persevere, but I stop and bail.

I need to forgive, but I blame and condemn.

I need to reveal, but I deceive and conceal.

I need to accept, but I fight and reject.

I need to forget, but I recall and dwell.

I need to grow, but I ignore and suppress.

I need to trust, but I doubt and fret.

And when I finally tire of running and resisting the very things I need the most, I find that my heart has been calmed; my mind has been rejuvenated; my being has grown; and those things I fought…were GOOD. 

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4 thoughts on “Fighting the Good

  1. Excellent! I love your ability to take an every day moment, and find meaning that resonates with your audience. Your babies are precious!

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