When Nate was an infant, I learned very quickly that his cries probably meant one of three things. He was tired, hungry, or uncomfortable with his surroundings (unfortunately, dirty diapers had no effect on the child—he only disliked having them changed). The remedy was simple: a nap, a bottle, or a comforting sway usually made him happy again. An infant’s needs are simple.
Three years later, a toddler’s needs are not much different. He still requires frequent feedings (preferably with lots of cheese and peanut butter), daily naps, interaction, and play. The play is more sophisticated and the eating more messy, but he still relies on us to carry him through the routine of the day. Nate’s happiest when things are mostly predictable and which in turn, keeps Daniel and me happy.
I know that as he gets older, his needs will mature, but fundamentally, they will remain. After all, even adults need the same things. Think about it. How often, when things feel out of control, are you 1) tired, 2) hungry, or 3) stressed about your circumstances?
Humans are simple things.
Of course, humans are also complicated: we experience and express complex emotions and needs. Yet we’re often simple as well. Like my toddler son, we all need food, care, sleep. On the really bad days, I’d pay someone to do nothing more than give me food, listen to my rants, and put me to bed.
As a teenager, I often wished I could zip past eating as I’d have more time for important tasks. So, I bought instant food whenever possible and ate with my computer or current book. I was efficient! And then, I saw beauty. I saw beauty in a perfectly roasted chicken. It was both crispy and soft, with a light buttery taste and a seductive smell. This was food to be enjoyed. Later, I witness the shocking color of rainbow swiss chard. It seemed unnatural, these neon pinks, yellows, and reds. How can such beauty, color, and tastes be dismissed in our daily existence? Such good is meant to be served and tasted, again and again.
If I have a gifting in life, it’s sleep. I have fought for it, cried over it, and ignored many many dishes for it. It's a beautiful, glorious thing to slip my tired body into white, clean sheets and to wake up refreshed. But like any parent knows, rest is often hard to find. Daniel usually gets enough, but when a work deadline approaches, that precious resource gets low. I need more sleep than he does anyway, so Nate’s early morning wake up call of “I’m hungry, Mommy!” means I’m stumbling around the kitchen for an hour or more. Eventually, I pay up on my sleep debt and become fully human again.
Stress—our adult word for being uncomfortable with our surroundings—is an odd dance in a marriage. I stress over relationships, the dishes, and the odd neighbor. Daniel worries mainly about work. He tells me calm down, I tell him things will be okay. It ebbs and flows, and usually ends up with me ranting about meaningless details. It’s a gift to have a partner who worries about different things that you, not so you cover everything, but you can see how insane you must sound because they sound crazy. The perspective is calming, if a bit amusing.
Humans need simple things in life. Food gives us energy for what lies ahead, sleep gives us rest for what we have done, and love gives us motivation to do the whole thing. Such good is meant to be served and enjoyed, again and again.