Zen Baby and the Art of Silencing the Inner Critic

Owen pissed about the Flash - for the 4th time

I enjoy writing late at night.  The house is quiet and the city sleeps.  Usually I am so god-awful tired by the time I sit down to write that I can barely keep my eyes open.  The result is, you have to sit through my musings before getting a baby update. 

I find at these times words come more freely and I've all but silenced the inner critic because I think he's a morning person, anyway.  The converse of that is, my inner critic is usually awake before me and by the time I rouse from dreamland, he's screaming at me about being lazy, or ugly, or a fraud at this or that.

Not a particularly good way to start the day, particularly when you are blogging about the purposeful life, living mindfully.  It's often those of us who have the hardest time with things, the ones who hit near bottom and get fed up with their current circumstances (most of which we caused) who eventually venture out of their comfort zone to learn how to fix things. 

I'm still learning.

The problem is that we're resisting.  Our inner critic gets desparate and asks who the hell you think you are, trying to make yourself better.  You're not worthy of anything good. 

We read in books about positive affirmations but it isn't much help.  Your inner critic is quite good at using this against you.  You say, "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me," and your inner critic is quick to chime in, "You suck, you failed fifth grade algebra, and the littany of people who've stomped on you would make a charming anti-Charley parade."

Your successes lie in your actions not in your words.

I brought my brother up to see the babies tonight.  There had been a month long ban on anybody coming into the NICU who wasn't a parent or grandparent due to the swine flu scare.  So he hadn't seen the tremendous progress they've made over these several weeks. 

One of the things he said to me was how cool it was to be able to see them, to be able to touch them through the Isolette.  And that really said it all.  

I'm a father who should be able to live in the present moment and enjoy the essence of my children.  Noah has no concept of the inner critic.  He doesn't have anyone telling him, "you're a fraud," or "who the hell do you think you are."  He just is.  He's ever present.  He sleeps when he's tired, he eats when he's hungry, he learns to move his head and get stronger, and he won't let anyone prevent him from doing so.

It is then that I learn from him. 

Tapping the creative muse at night, silencing the inner critic, and the unfettered determination of my three beautiful babies, these are some of the things I worship and value above all else. 

By the way, the little tyke is up to 4lbs 14oz.  His weight has just exploded in the last few days and he looks absolutely terrific. 

The picture at the top, of Owen, is a recent set from last night where he had been three days on the high flow cannula.  As such, he didn't have the wrestler's mask scrunching up his face and so his head is looking more normal.  He was quite wide eyed and responsive last night. He's cute, even when he's pissed at me.

We spent a nice time with Bella as well.  We (meaning my wife, because if it were me, that would be weird) aren't allowed to breast feed any of them yet, but they let Nikki hold her while she used the breast pump.  The precious little girl with her tiny hands submerged in the long arms of a terry-cloth robe, she had an odd, multi-colored knit hat on too…a bit out of place, but cute in its peculiarity.  She sprinted for eight hours today and did terrific.

Namaste ~

P.S. my car door broke at the hospital tonight.  So I had to drive the whole way home trying to hold the thing shut while navigating the gears of my stick shift.  Can't wait to hear what my inner critic will have to say about that tomorrow morning (end Sarcasm widget).