Sleep Strike

Ignacio is one night away from officially declaring what I like to call a "sleep strike." By this I mean that he finds no real pleasure in the quiet slumber of the night, but rather prefers to be awake, talking to the animals on his wall, crying for mom and dad or talking to himself in the dark. Side note: You may have guessed that an infant-induced sleep strike translates to mom and dad tossing and turning, getting up trying to put him down and wishing, oh wishing, there was a manual for this. If one observes this little being during the day it is impossible to conceive that there is ANY energy left to carry on such a strike. With standing up now under his belt he finds no real reason to sit, let alone lay down. His new-found babbling allows him to believe he is carrying on the most profound monologue ever, however I have yet to figure out what the elephant on the wall REALLY needs to know at 3am. At the park he crawls after any animal that passes, be it the dog on a walk, the squirrel minding his own business or the pigeon just passing by. Every encounter appears as if there is some party Ignacio has to get to quickly as not to miss out on something such as the squirrel eating all the appetizers or the pigeons choosing the music selection. The animals, upon seeing an excited crawling creature coming towards them scurry away. Maybe I am the one breaking up the party and don't even know it. All I know is that parenting Ignacio at 3am is practice in meditation, focus, patience and love. Rather than focus on what isn't happening (sleeping) I am forced to focus on what is (he's not sleeping). I imagine myself as a container that holds whatever he is bringing to the experience, whether I like it or not. The container really never has a right to judge what it gets to hold. I am sure when he is older and trying to escape my embarrassing presence as a teenager or calling me at 3am to ask me what he should do with his screaming child, I will recollect fondly on these fleeting moments, remembering when they felt like an eternity or at least a strike with no good negotiations in sight.