A Reed in the Wind...

Parenting is fluid.

This fact keeps getting driven home to me, again and again through the act of watching my child grow. It is one continuous set of curve balls which generally sail past me at the very point that I have the illusion I'm getting the hang of this Dad thing. Nothing is a constant, save worry. Adjusting to that fact and not giving in to anxiety and panic is, at times, a herculean task.

Zachery had finally settled down to sleep and my wife and I were enjoying a few brief and blissful moments together (watching Law & Order actually), when we heard a strange laugh, I hopped up and strode quickly into Zack's bedroom, where I found him sitting up, eyes wide open, staring into space, muttering and then laughing. Startled I asked him what was wrong.

The complete lack of a reply or even an acknowledgement sent a frisson of fear sharply through me. Even a relatively dense dad like myself could sense that something was wrong. I sat down on the bed and tried to hug him, asking again "What's wrong Zack? Are you okay?"

I was met with a stiff child, no answering or responsive hug, no acknowledgement and a blank stare into space. Zack just wasn't there. My anxiety level soared - this was something I had never experienced with him and my first sickening fear was that some horrible neurological disorder was manifesting itself...

The real truth is that he was still fast asleep. Eyes open, having a nice 'sleep walk' of sorts, sitting on the bed holding a conversation and laughing... scaring the hell out of both his parents in the process. Anxious parents that we were, we brought him into the living room and he gradually woke up completely. We peppered him with a handful of questions and slowly realized the truth of the situation. The fear gave way to an exhausted relief and we shuffled him back to bed...hopefully to resume his amusing dreams without the eerie laughing.

Never having experienced this sort of situation before, I did what every inexperienced parent before me does - I called my mother. She listened patiently, then interrupted me half-way through my description. "He was sleepwalking." she said matter-of-factly. "Don't worry about it. Just put him back to bed and forget about it." I was still absorbing the disquieting lack of awareness in my son that I had just experienced, but my uncertaintly and anxiety cut no ice with my mother. "Happens all the time. One time your older brother got up in the middle of the night and wandered all over the house, through the halls, into the kitchen, down the stairs and back to bed. I followed him all over the house. He was asleep the whole time. Never remembered a thing. Don't worry about it."

My mother's parenting advice tends to be delivered in absolutes - abrupt, short and to the point - but with years of experience backing it up....So I tend to listen to her. She maintains that kids, more often then not, look after themselves quite well, and you don't need to walk around pretending they are fragile. They are, she concluded, a lot tougher and more resilient then you think - so relax a little.

I suppose it helps when you have more than one child. By the time you get to the second one, you are seasoned, an old pro, facing few surprises. I'm not seasoned yet, but I suspect, that I need to learn to relax to the constant change and recognize that the universal parental condition is uncertainty. I can keep fighting it, making myself anxious and worried, or try develop a level of conscious acceptance and respect for the situation, in short, The Zen of Fatherhood.

So it goes...

Comments are always welcome. You can reach me at dadchronicles(at)hotmail.com.