Human Nature

She refused to take a nap today. Which is like the feeling you get when you walk into clinic, find out you’re the only doctor there, are overbooked on the hour, and the residents are gone so you have to take ER calls and consults. And half the technicians called out sick. I can’t even recall the last time this happened—long enough ago to lull me into a false sense of security.

She goes into this sleep deprivation-induced cycle of hyperactivity and fussiness, the most annoying form of which is the frantic now-I-want-it-now-I-don’t. Like she kept asking for the guitar—so I lug it out, start playing, then she starts rolling on the floor screaming “no guitar!” like I did it specifically to torture her, so I put it away, then she cries for it again like it’s the only thing she wants. Ditto for wanting to watch a movie, color, eat this or that.

Clearly she has no idea what she wants, and even less idea what she needs, which is to sleep. It’s hard to believe someone could be so obviously mixed up about this until you see it in action, and it makes me wonder if we appear this ridiculous to God. Very often I get mixed up about what I want or need. I think I want to work, then when I do I want to stay at home. I crave ice cream but feel yucky after eating it. I escape for hours into fictional worlds only to emerge more tired and less able to focus on my real life.

That’s the thing about two year-olds. If you want a completely unfiltered look at human nature, live with one. She is rarely able to think outside of her own needs, wants whatever someone else has, can’t foresee delayed consequences, is completely controlled by her moods. I have many more sophisticated filters, like an overanalytical mind, awareness of societal constraints and others’ opinions, a modicum of self-control, but in the end, my baseline nature is pretty much the same. If I go very long without hanging out with God, without asking him to help me out, all of that eventually comes through.

Of course she also lives with unadulterated joy and delight. Every time she sees this stained-glass angel sticking up out of a flower pot we have, she kisses it. She dances her own, flailing, bopping brand of moves with complete lack of inhibition, anytime she hears a beat. She asks to be tickled and then giggles hilariously at the top of her lungs when we do. She adores babies and tree bark and wants to hug the clouds. When she eats something she likes she goes MMMM YUM continuously. She makes me remember to look at things, to enjoy the simple, to linger with people, and that makes it pretty much worth it.