Old Amy vs. New Amy

I can't remember the last time I wrote a post that included only words, no pictures.  It used to happen all the time, when I used the blog to make note of stories about the kids that I wanted to remember.  Now that I use Facebook for those memories, the blog content has, let's just say, suffered.

During the wee hours of this morning, though, I spent some time in thought about ways that I have changed over the past 3 months.  And I wanted to share just a blip of that "story" here, so that someday my kids will be able to read about how much these months have meant to me.

My small readership (can I even use that word?) likely knows by now that I quit my job at the end of November.  I won't use this venue to get into the reasons behind that decision, other than to say that I came to the realization that what I was getting out of my job, professionally, wasn't coming close to stacking up to what I was missing out on, personally.  Over the past 7 years as a working mom, I had (almost) always found myself in a place of personal and professional happiness.  My career was advancing, I loved the people with whom I worked, and I didn't feel as though I was short-changing my kids.  So a working mom I was.

Over the past year, though, I saw both my job and my perspective change to the point where I, with Dale's full support, felt I needed to make a choice.  We chose our family.  And now, 3 months later, I can honestly say that there hasn't been a single second out of those approximately 8,535,600 where I second-guessed our decision.

But, back to this morning and the reason for this post in the first place.  Macie had stayed home on Friday with a fever, and, since we kept it under control during the day with medicine, I was interested to see how the night would go.

I got the answer at 4:00a, when Macie tapped my shoulder and told me she was cold.   While walking her back to her room and preparing to tuck her in with an extra blanket, I noticed she had the shivers; the kind you can't get to stop, no matter how many blankets you use.

Reflecting on this moment 30 minutes later, I realized that this point was a crystal clear example of the life change I have undergone.  "Old Amy", as Dale jokingly refers to my working-at-UNC days, would have tucked Macie in snugly and sat on the side of her bed for a few minutes to calm her down and try to get her back to sleep.  Then she would have, as quickly as possible, hustled back to bed for much-needed sleep after a long and likely-stressful work week.  But "New Amy", the calmer and (I think as a result) kinder version, decided that what Macie really needed was some snuggles and hand-holding.  So I tip-toed back to my room, grabbed my pillow, and told Macie that I was going to sleep the rest of the night with her.  It was obviously not what she expected, and, as a result, she wasn't entirely convinced.  She looked at me incredulously and, in her sweet, sick, shaky voice asked, "The WHOLE NIGHT, Mama?!?"  With my affirmative response, it was as if all immediately became right in her world.

It took her about 10 minutes to calm down enough for the shivering to stop.  I spent that time with my arm wrapped around her, holding her sweet little hands in mine, listening to her breathing become more regular, and knowing there was no place I would rather be.

"They" say that I will miss this, and that I'm going to want this time back.  After these past 3 months, I'm actually starting to believe it. 

Life With Three

I got an email from a friend twenty-one days ago (but who's counting?!?), asking how "life with three" was going. Turns out she and her husband are contemplating a third child; one is apprehensive, the other gung ho. So she thought she'd check in for some first-hand stories of just how insane it is.

Her email was timely, as I've wanted to get some thoughts on this in writing on the blog, anyway (before some of them are a distant memory). Please, friend-that-will-remain-nameless, don't deem the fact that it took me 3 weeks to respond to your email as a wordless answer to your question!

I've often said that if I could birth one-year-olds, I'd want to have tons of kids! With the girls, the first years of their lives were, at least in my memory, centered around the daily chaos of rushed morning rituals, full work days, pumping, cleaning the never-ending stack of dirty plastic pump parts/bottles/sippy cups, rushing home to throw together a quick dinner, and ultimately heading upstairs for bath and bedtime. While I know it didn't always feel hurried and crazy as we were going through it, it certainly seemed that way when I looked back on it after we'd settled into the toddler years. I mean, the fact that I could get on an airplane to fly to see my family and not have to worry about nursing and/or packing the pump? Awesome. Freeing. Dare I say it? CALM.

If I were asked to give a 4-letter word to describe our lives these days with three kiddos, I could think of several that would work. The one that wouldn't would be "calm".

I'm a planner by nature, but one thing that 3 kids has forced me to do is to basically plan every minute of every day. It certainly is more challenging, now that Ivie is in an essentially-half-day Kindergarten. While we love the Christian environment that we're blessed to have her in, it also involves making arrangements with 2 other families for morning carpool, as well as organizing after-school care that literally is different every single day of the week. These sorts of plans are actually right up my alley (you should see the morning carpool calendar that I created!), but I must admit it's mind-numbing. It's constant. And you have to be "on your game" all the time. It doesn't seem like there's ever really time to sit back and take a deep breath. Because if I DO have that time, it's likely I'll fall asleep from exhaustion.

And then there's work. My thoughts go back and forth on this issue, even more so since Bryce's arrival. I (mostly) love my job. I mean, there are aspects about everyone's jobs that aren't ideal, right? But I enjoy my co-workers, and I feel like I'm able to use my God-given gifts "for the good of the order". But on days (like this past Tuesday) when I pick Bryce up at 4:45p from day care, head to a friend's house to get Ivie and Macie (because the friend, who has 2 girls the same ages, was graciously willing to pick all 4 of them up from their respective schools and let them play together that afternoon), and then have to drive the 10 minutes home with two overly-tired, crabby, screaming, sobbing, hitting, angry girls, all while mentally scratching the dinner I had planned and instead contemplating what I can throw together FAST so as to thwart the next round of fussiness when the food isn't sitting on the table ready to be devoured just as soon as they walk in the door... On THOSE types of days, when the headache that started small toward the end of the work day but wound up taking over and sending me to bed waving the white flag at 8:30p, a big part of me wonders if any job is really worth it. The debate still rages within.

But enough about that. Because, really, when it comes to life with 3 kids, it's not about the job. While my employment outside of the home is, certainly, a minor factor in my personal fulfillment, it's not what keeps me going. As I tell Dale, it's not what makes me "tick".

As I sit here typing and watching Bryce content in his swing, "singing" softly, absentmindedly biting on his pointer finger, and blinking with eyelids that get noticeably heavier each time, I can no longer remember what our family was like without him. Nothing about it is easy, for sure, and days are long, repetitive, and tiresome. I wake up nearly 2 hours before the kids, get to work much later than I used to, drag 4 bags into the office each day, have sometimes gotten so involved with work that I forget that I need to shut my door and pump, leave work in time to make the well-over-an-hour trek to the two schools that are located on opposite sides of town, rush home to a house full of tired and hungry kids, somehow manage to get them all (and sometimes even myself) fed, muster up the energy to play for an hour before bath and kids' bedtimes, and then spend another hour washing bottles and readying the house to do it all over again the next day.

But even with ALL of that daily craziness, I can sit here and say, without hesitation, that I'm a happy mom of three kids. The path down which Dale and I have brought our now family of five may not always be rosy, blissful, predictable, effortless, or uncomplicated, but it's worth it. Every second, minute, day, and week. So much so that words can't even describe. And you know why?

Because, through it all, love multiplies. Exponentially.

Pack a Pack!

Last Sunday at church, we learned of a World Relief effort for refugee children in the United States as the beginning of the school year draws near. It's called Back-2-School, and it involves buying supplies that these children need, but can't afford themselves.

Since today marked the start of our tax-free weekend in North Carolina, the girls and I headed to Target after dinner to stock a backpack to help a little girl (Ivie's choice) on her way to elementary school. While we ate dinner, I explained to Ivie what we would be doing. And, by the time we got to Target, she was ultra-excited. In fact, while we shopped, she told 3 or 4 strangers that we were "buying things for a little girl to take to school."

As we looked at the backpack selection, Ivie and I were in disagreement. She wanted to get a Dora backpack, and I wanted to get one a little less "character-y". I tried explaining to her that we didn't know how old the little girl was that would be getting this backpack, so it was hard to know if she would still like Dora. Ivie, of course, who thinks that everyone likes Dora, didn't take too kindly to that reasoning. As we talked, a young woman passed by, laughing, and said, "It sounds like you're doing the same thing as me...", and showed me her flyer for Back-2-School, as well! I finally convinced Ivie that when it came time for HER to go to Kindergarten, she could get a Dora backpack. But, for now, she needed to relent and go with the pink plaid one. Miraculously, she agreed!

Although we stretched bedtime out for this outing (and Macie made me pay for it by the time we got home), it was well worth it.

Another reason I love being a mommy?

3. Watching your child take pride in helping others and happily share her excitement with whomever will listen.


National Collection Week for the Back-2-School program is August 16-22, 2010. Check out this link to find out how you can "pack a pack", yourself!

Macie in Action

We went to the mall last night to spend some Gymbucks at Gymboree. Macie wanted to carry the bag, but it quickly became too heavy for her. She was too stubborn (wonder where she gets that from?!?) to let Dale or me carry it, so this was how she adapted:




Backing up a bit to yesterday morning... While Dale and Ivie were at t-ball, Macie and I played with basically every toy in the living room. Among them, the stacking blocks. And I caught a bit of our "game" on the Flip.



Another reason why I love being a mommy?

2. Always having someone to tickle for a belly laugh.

Why I Love Being a Mommy

For Dale's first Father's Day, I gave him this frame:


And since the writing's pretty small, here's a shot of just the words:


So, you wonder, how does this have anything to do with why I love being a mom?!? Give me a second. I'll get to that part. You know by now that I get long-winded when I tell stories sometimes!

Today, Macie laid down for nap at 1:30p or so. Ivie followed shortly thereafter around 2:15p. And I, in my favorite Saturday afternoon ritual, played online for a bit (planning for Macie's 2nd birthday party) and made it to my bed around 2:45p (I'd say, although I didn't really look at the clock).

Except for a brief cry-out by Macie around 3:15p (after which she fell back asleep), the three of us slept peacefully until 4:15p. I'm not sure why (because there wasn't any noise), but that's when I opened my eyes and glanced toward my door. Ivie was peaking in at me. I said, simply, "Hey, Iv.". She didn't say a word. Just came to my side of the bed and crawled in under the covers alongside of me, snuggling up against my chest.

She still didn't speak. Which, for those of you that know Ivie, is really strange. About a minute later, her breathing calmed into a regular pattern, and I could tell she'd drifted back off to sleep. And I'm not joking when I tell you that this is the first time that she has snuggled and napped with me in my bed (we're afraid of starting a habit we can't break, so we've never allowed it). And, to make it crazier, it came AFTER a 2-hour nap in her own room!

And this, I experienced for the first time today, is one reason why I love being a mommy:

(taken with my cell phone as proof, since I couldn't get up and Dale wasn't responding to my texts to bring the camera upstairs)

(taken after I'd successfully crawled out of the other side of the bed and gone down to get the camera)

So, back to the reason why I started this post with the picture of the frame I gave Dale. The 10 reasons why Ivie loved her daddy 4 years ago could have easily be re-phrased into reasons why Dale loved being a daddy. As we go through daily life, there are so many experiences when I think to myself, "This is why I love being a mommy.". But, until now, I've never written them down. So they bunch all together in my brain and become fleeting thoughts, pushed aside by the "here and now".

So I'm planning to start an ongoing series on my blog. Like Wordless Wednesday, Simplify Sunday (haven't done THAT one in a while!), and Show-and-Tell. A place to record, "for the history books", all the reasons why I love being a mom. Starting now.

1. When your pre-schooler crawls in your bed after her nap, snuggles up against you, and falls back to sleep.

I'm warning you, my numbers might literally reach into the millions. Because I don't think there's any title on earth I'd rather have.