It started the day we said, “At least the boys sleep through the night.“

The hubris alarm sounded in the guard tower surrounding Mount Parentis, and the child rearing gods said, “Initiate spoke-too-soon protocols for the Callaway household.” ⚡️

Our younger one explores all manner of nocturnal disruption technologies these days.

The standard event occurs at any point in the dark time when there’s a sleep cycle shift change.

From the far reaches of the boys’ room, a clear, high-overtone rich screlt (scream-belt) invades my dream about showing up to school with no pants. 

“Daaaaaaadddyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!”

After this successful audition for Judas in JC Superstar comes the determined elephant rampage toward the bedroom door, and then it’s time to share the material he’s prepped for the Off-Bway revivals of Stomp and Blue Man Group. With more belting.

So far, no amount of “What would Super Nanny do?” or “What did that gentle parenting course teach us about this scenario?” 3-am questioning has availed an answer. We’re figuring it out as we go.

Number one way to guarantee that you experience an unwanted event in its fullest form is to judge someone else who’s going through said event.

I’ll explain.

Friend posts on social, “So my little one was up AGAIN at fill-in-the-ungodly-hour-here, so here we are doing some crazy thing while everyone should be sleeping.”

Cue my self satisfied mind saying, “Well, if you’d just read The Happiest Baby on the Block like I suggested, you wouldn’t be experiencing these problems that are clearly rooted in your failure to properly teach your child to sleep through the night in utero.”

Yep–you wanna have it happen or do it, judge somebody. This is all anecdotal and experiential, but I’m pretty sure it’s right.

Oh, also, if you wanna feel contracted, self-righteous, tense, and a little smoldery in your tummy, judging is a direct path to that as well.

As any parent will tell you, we were all such terrific mummies and daddies before we were blessed with 24-7 human wellbeing patrol.

You got any of those? Moments where you were like, “Dang, I was way harsh about that, and now I’m all samesies but even more.“?

Silver lining side-note–We did have some good group productivity in the wee dark hours. 

The boys apparently inherited my penchant for early morning get er done.

My message to you from today’s bleary-eyed missive is two-fold.

1. Notice whom and what you like to get judgy about. 

and

2. Remember that this will change.

Elaboration for numero uno–The things I get judgy about are express train maps right to the places where I’m the meanest to me. If I’m unable to give myself some grace, I’m not gonna give it to you.

No matter how nice and encouraging I’m telling myself I’m being about your issues, I can only give you the love and understanding I’m willing to give me. 

Notice this in your life when you’re all, “I’m much nicer to my loved ones than I am to myself.” 

Do a lil observation of the thoughts you don’t let out of your mouth. Are they 100% charitable?

And expansion on #2– when it comes to your circumstances and the ones we’re judging in others, let’s remember that they’re gonna change. That’s why all the clichés are about change. 

Zoom back 10 years. That was a different scene, right? Were you doing some things back then that now-you has a better handle on? 

And when you’re singing, see how this might be helpful? ?

I get to see a lot of students managing the ill effects of a predominately Western classical music education–a world full of wrongs and rights and shame judgments based on the sounds you’re tryina make come out of your mouth.

The only wrong sound you can make is one that hurts. Don’t repeat those.

All the other ones have some use and some place somewhere. 

That’s where the time and change comes in.

Find the people who can help you make the sounds you wanna make to be the storyteller you wanna be, and commit to showing up to the soundmaking lab over and over. 

In time, you’re gonna say nicer things to yourself about the enjoyable vibrations coming through your vocal folds, and you’ll look back and say, “Look how much that changed.”

Go gently, you beautiful soul. Give love and generosity to you, and as Mrs. Lovett so wisely counseled Sweeney Todd before his psychotic break at the end of Act I, “Time goes quickly. See? Now it’s passed…waaaait.”

Oh, wait.

You get the point. 

It’ll change. And we have some influence on the trajectory of that change.

Most importantly, though, remember that there’s only one you, and folks need to hear the story only you can sing.

Love much,
dan