Choosing Today

I have been rushing through life for the past 12 years, ever since I graduated from high school.

Rushing to get through each semester of college. Rushing to get that cap and gown. Rushing to be done with school. Rushing through my internship so I could finally sit to take my dietitian board exam. Rushing to my wedding day. Rushing to get a job.

And finally, rushing to buy a house, get pets, get pregnant and to get to a stage a life where I felt content. No matter what, there was always something bigger and better I was rushing to get to. And once I got there, I always had a mourning period. Mourning the stage that I rushed to get through, without realizing how the busyness has distracted me from moments I will never get back.

I can barely even remember the events of the night my now-husband proposed to me, I was too busy thinking ahead to the wedding. College is a blur of a never-ending to-do list that I was a slave to. Our first year of marriage left me constantly distracted, wondering when and where we would finally settle down and buy and house, and if and when I would be able to get pregnant. When I did become pregnant, I couldn’t even enjoy my pregnancy. I let it fly by without stopping to enjoy the little amount of time I had left with just my husband and I. And as wonderful as it is to have her here, oh how I wish I would have savored those moments when I could feel her moving around inside of me!

Although for years my mentality has been “tomorrow will be better,” that has changed since becoming a mom. Time is a double-edged sword, both my friend and my enemy. It’s my friend when 7PM comes- when it’s finally time to start bath and getting ready for bed. Some days, 7PM cannot come soon enough. It’s my enemy when I’m constantly reminded how fast my baby is growing. She’s not a baby anymore. She’s become independent and is growing into a little person with her own opinion. I’ve heard the saying so many times- The days are long but the years are short. It’s so true.

Even though I desperately want time to stop, each day feels like a marathon that I’m just trying to get through.

The first mile is getting breakfast ready- it’s slow and steady because it’s the one time of the day that we can take it nice and easy- although my mind has the whole race planned out in my head and my entire day has already been strategized. Miles 2-8 are quick- get dressed, teeth brushed, bags packed, in the car, then out the door as quickly as possible to wherever we’re going- preschool drop-off, music class, the gym, grocery store. Miles 8-13- these are painful to get through but I know once I’m through them I’m halfway there to one of the best parts of the day: naptime. Lunch, cleanup, laundry, planning dinner and doing a couple phone consults with patients is something I try to get through quickly because I want at least one mile of rest, where I can take it nice and easy before she wakes up. Miles 14-22 are always the toughest mentally- that time between nap and dinner. By miles 22-26 I’m tired but encouraged because (most days) I have my cheerleader with me (my husband) who can help me to the finish line. Bedtime- after about 60 minutes of reading, singing the same song over and over and saying a prayer for everyone we know plus anything stuffed that’s in her room- the marathon is finally over.

Don’t get me wrong, I love every part of it. But I am so guilty of being stuck in the “just finish the race” mentality. Haven’t I learned?! I have. But I can’t seem to stop myself from wishing away today and longing for tomorrow.

I have a lot to look forward to, just like I always have. I look forward to watching my daughter grow up to be an independent young woman. I can’t wait to see what her interests and hobbies will be, and where her passions will lead her to. I’m excited to take her shopping for new school clothes, her prom dress, her wedding dress. I can’t wait to see her start a family and have babies of her own. But I don’t want to rush to get there. I don’t want to miss out anymore.

This stage of life- it’s hard. I’m okay with admitting that. Even though it’s hard, I wouldn’t trade it for any other season right now. It’s exactly where I want to be.

Today, Carli wanted me to play blocks with her before she napped. I had an afternoon planned with things we needed to do, so I wanted her down for a nap at a certain time. Instead of fighting it, I sat with her and helped her build a tower. We built the same tower over and over again. It fell down, we picked it back up and started over. Even though this is an activity that would typically so easily lose my attention, I couldn’t help but notice how fascinated she was with it all. I can’t even explain the joy it brought to her eyes- to have my full and undivided attention. It’s hard for me to just sit and play without a thousand things going through my head, or picking up things around me, or running upstairs for “just a minute” to throw in some laundry. She had my full presence. That’s what she needed and we both soaked up every minute.

 

 

Tomorrow is full of new adventures and milestones. I look forward to that. But today’s opportunities will be gone if I continue racing through them. Today I’m going to choose to be present and soak up each moment slowly and with intention. Because tomorrow, those blocks will be replaced with a completely new interest. Tomorrow, bedtime will be shorter and she won’t want me to read her the same book 20 times.  Tomorrow, she’ll be one day closer to fixing breakfast on her own. Tomorrow, while it may be easier, isn’t always better. So today, I’m here.

 

 

Dads Are Just As Awesome

When I was pregnant with my daughter 3 years ago, I remember getting emotional over anything I saw that highlighted the special bond a mother has with her child. Baby commercials, blog posts, pregnancy books, videos of mothers holding their baby for the first time- my overly hormonal pregnancy brain just couldn’t handle the anticipation of becoming a mother, something that is such a miracle and the most wonderful journey I could ever imagine embarking on. I couldn’t wait to form that special bond with my own child, and I envisioned being there for her in every way that a mother is supposed to be- doing mommy and me classes, comforting her in the middle of the night when she can’t sleep, rubbing her back when she’s sick, tucking her into bed, picking her up and dropping her off at school- I wanted to be the parent who is supposed to do all of those things. Because I’m the mom, and that’s what moms do.

Society puts both moms and dads in certain roles. Or at least it used to. Moms take care of sick kids. Moms console a hurting child. Moms get up in the middle of the night. Moms are more involved in activities and school. Moms get praised relentlessly for all we do because….moms do it all. 

Partly out of my motherly instincts and partly because I’m selfish, ever since my daughter was born I felt as if I needed to do it all too. Not because I felt I had to, but I wanted to and I didn’t want to be labeled a bad mom for letting my husband step into what was supposed to be MY role. But he wanted to be in my role. He wanted to have a bigger part in the parenting pendulum. This annoyed me to such a deep level that I started to resent him for it. Not that I wanted our daughter to have a deadbeat dad, but I wanted him to just butt out of my job. Dads just aren’t supposed to take that special role away from mothers. It’s easy to play the martyr. It’s also more rewarding to feel as if you are doing everything for your kids- I wanted the self-satisfaction in knowing that I could do it all. I was super mom.

Last week our little girl was sick and it was a Tuesday night. If this kid gets sick, it’s ALWAYS on Tuesday night. I work on Wednesdays only (my husband is off on Wednesdays), and there is nothing I hate more than leaving her when she doesn’t feel good. Sick kids only want their mom, right? I remember telling him that I was just going to go in later that week- maybe Thursday or Friday. She needed me. He accused me of calling him an incompetent parent which annoyed me even more. I thought- but what if she needs to go to the doctor? I need to be there for that!

The next morning, after a long night staying up with a toddler who was having horrible tummy pains, I was driving to Atlanta on about 3 hours of sleep. I had threatened my husband all night that I was going to quit my job that I love, just so I could always be around for times like this. I had the radio tuned to my favorite morning station and they happened to be talking about the new Chickfila drive thru service for moms. This caters to moms with small children who don’t want the hassle of standing in line with them, but still want to sit in the dining room. They can take the kids through the drive thru while they are still restrained in their car seats to place their order, then park and go inside where a table with their food will be waiting for him. People were calling in to the station asking “what about dads? Why don’t dads get this kind of service? Why is everything catered to moms?”

I’m sure if my husband really wanted to use this service while he’s home with our daughter on a Wednesday, Chickfila would cater to him and not put up a fight. But it’s just the concept of it- our society is catered to allowing moms to have the primary parenting role, and dads are always coming in second. It’s terribly difficult to find a men’s room with a changing table- my husband could never change our daughter’s diaper when we’re eating out even if he wanted to. Most companies don’t offer any type of paternity leave for dads- my husband had to save up sick leave so that he could have a week off when our baby was born. I won’t even go into the role that the media, advertisement and our culture play into, that put moms on the parenting pedestal while dads are sitting on the couch, drinking a beer and watching football.

While I was listening to this radio show last Wednesday, the message I got was that dads want to be more involved. And women want the fathers of their children to be able to step into that “mom” role more often. Not because women are getting whiny and don’t want the responsibility, or because the millennials are now becoming parents and we’re all lazy, but because  dads are just as capable at doing the things that moms have always done. We should want our children to have an equal relationship with both parents. How selfish of me for wanting to get all the snuggles, all the bedtime kisses and all the bonding time.

My husband is a champ and such an amazing father. That day he called the doctor, took her in and explained her symptoms just as I would have. He got peed on, didn’t get a shower, and most importantly gave our 2 year old all the love and snuggles she needed. She was perfectly fine staying home with her dad and he handled the day like a pro- just like he always has.

 

I’m grateful that my little girl has such an amazing male role model in her life. It takes some of the pressure off of me, to know that when I’m gone she’s getting the equal quality of care that she would if I were there. I feel less guilty for wanting to work outside of the home a little bit. I feel less of a burden on the nights I’m out doing other commitments and can’t be home to tuck her into bed.

Her daddy wants to spend as much quality time as possible with her. He doesn’t mind rocking her in the middle of the night. He wants to comfort her when she’s hurt. I want him to have these opportunities. And I’m no longer taking it as a threat that she’s just as happy to be with her daddy as she is me. I just consider us both to be incredibly lucky to have him.