Zen Mama

Embrace your exhaustion. Do not count the minutes until the baby falls asleep, for they are as numerous as the grains of sand on the beach that you will not see for quite some time, because you swore that you would never be the mother sponging spit up off the flight attendant with some soda water. The baby will sleep when the baby sleeps; you will sleep when the baby goes to college.

Yogurt on the tray. Yogurt on your blouse. Yogurt on the ceiling. Yogurt on Aunt Mabel’s antique sideboard that your sister keeps offering to take to her house “to preserve the heirloom.” Yogurt is everywhere; the universe is yogurt. Be one with the yogurt.

The tantrum is an illusion. Only the soul is eternal. Repeat—the tantrum is an illusion. Contrary to appearances, the child will not die if his crackers are in a green bowl instead of a blue bowl. Attachment brings suffering. His attachment to the blue bowl is bringing you suffering. The tantrum is an… OH FOR CRISSAKES, HERE’S YOUR STUPID BLUE BOWL.

The happy dance of a toddler is eternal.