To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

While it’s not true every time, lately Morgan has been very fussy at naptime, as I jokingly observed in my last post.  It makes me so curious as to what might be going through her mind, and it does feel as if she gets mad at the cruel injustice of being denied new observations by her tired mind.  

When she first starts to get tired and is just a bit fussy, nothing makes her happier than being held facing outward (back to my chest, one of my arms “buckling” her torso, one supporting her legs and butt).  If she isn’t so tired that she’s just about to drop (and, thus, fighting the Jabberwocky for dear life), she stops fussing as soon as she’s facing out.  That simple act of opening her visual horizons up is enough to negate the perceived problem of impending sleep.

It’s an amazing thing to see a child so desperately hungry to see, to learn, to do, which makes it even sadder to see adults so desperately hungry to keep to a routine and avoid new things. As a parent, I want to preserve that germ of intellectual and experiential curiosity for the rest of Morgan’s life.  I want to nurture it and grow it, even knowing full well that she may well seek out experiences that I do not wish for her.  That hunger for knowledge is more important than my own plans and desires for her life.  Yes, as much and as long as possible, I will always be there to pick her up when an experience turns sour, and there are certainly some experiences I will protect her from, but I do not want my actions to ever indicate to her that seeking knowledge is wrong.

It is a great crime of our time that so many who have such a vast wealth of knowledge at their fingertips use it to do and know so little.