she chose community.
Iâve never returned from maternity leave without the joy of a child to come home to after a long dayâs work. What do you say to your colleagues when they ask you how youâre doing? How do you go home to a quiet house, and how do you forget about losing your baby when your body is still recovering from childbirth?
I know Laura will never forget the pain. In many ways, she wouldnât want to. But I also love to see her with Harrison, knowing that he is a special gift from God and she treasures every moment. So I pray that Laura would be strong as she balances being a passionate mother with being an excellent teacher. Leaving my children to go to work is never easy, but nothing is more rewarding than coming home to your children and being reunited after a long dayâs work. Yes, my mommy cape is probably the hardest cape I wear, but I wouldnât trade it for anything.
FOUR
The Daily Grind
Be still, and know that I am God.
Psalm 46:10
My day typically begins at 7:00 a.m. I know what youâre thinking: This is awfully late. Most mothers of young children begin their day at some painful hour like 4:30 a.m. Been there. Done that. My get-out-of-bed time does have its exceptions, such as when I have to get into the office early, catch a morning flight, run with my neighbor Emily, take care of sick kids, or help Nick finish his homework that we forgot to do the night before. But most days, I relish every extra minute of sleep.
Once I get out of bed and hit the ground running, thereâs no turning back. In a matter of one hour, I have to shower, dress, get ready for work, eat breakfast, make breakfast for the kids, help Anna pick out her clothes, dress the kids, change Abbyâs diaper, check backpacks for lunches and homework, check the calendar for carpool duty and other schedule changes, and get out the door. If we have carpool duty, that means we have to leave at least five minutes earlier to pick up Reed and Jack, so I really should have gotten up at 6:55 a.m. Most mornings, Iâm cutting it close.
Itâs humanly impossible to get all of this done in one hour. But I try. The morning is the one time I readily admit I couldnât do it without Doug. He does circles around me. By the time I roll out of bed at 7:00 a.m., he has already showered, eaten breakfast, read the paper, and had his coffee. (Mind you, I single-handedly put the kids to bed the night before while he passed out in his La-Z-Boy at 8:00 p.m. watching ESPN.) Heâs pretty handy to have around in the morning.
Even with Dougâs help, I still have to cut corners. The shower is the first thing to go. I can pull my hair back in a twist, spray on some perfume, and no one will know the difference. Showers are overrated, and most Americans are too obsessed with hygiene. I learned that in college traveling through Europe. Blonde Sister disagrees, but even she canât argue that Iâm pressed for time in the mornings. Besides, I much prefer an evening soak in the bath after everyone is in bed. Breakfast is also optional. My own breakfast, that is. I wouldnât be a decent mother if I let my children go without breakfast, but I can always grab something on the go. I used to get a toasted bagel with cream cheese, or better yet, a moist cranberry scone. Bagels and scones unfortunately ended with my low-carb diet, so I settle for some granola and a few nuts.
On a good day, it usually takes me twenty minutes to dress Anna and do her hair. The first dilemma: She canât decide what sheâs going to wear. She has one shirt she likes, âbutterfly shirt,â that she rotates with pink and brown pants. Butterfly shirt is ripping because we wash and wear it five times a week, but Anna doesnât care. She often prefers to get butterfly shirt out of the dirty clothes rather than wear something inferior. If Iâm lucky, sheâll settle for her leopard tank top. Unfortunately, itâs
Iâve never returned from maternity leave without the joy of a child to come home to after a long dayâs work. What do you say to your colleagues when they ask you how youâre doing? How do you go home to a quiet house, and how do you forget about losing your baby when your body is still recovering from childbirth?
I know Laura will never forget the pain. In many ways, she wouldnât want to. But I also love to see her with Harrison, knowing that he is a special gift from God and she treasures every moment. So I pray that Laura would be strong as she balances being a passionate mother with being an excellent teacher. Leaving my children to go to work is never easy, but nothing is more rewarding than coming home to your children and being reunited after a long dayâs work. Yes, my mommy cape is probably the hardest cape I wear, but I wouldnât trade it for anything.
FOUR
The Daily Grind
Be still, and know that I am God.
Psalm 46:10
My day typically begins at 7:00 a.m. I know what youâre thinking: This is awfully late. Most mothers of young children begin their day at some painful hour like 4:30 a.m. Been there. Done that. My get-out-of-bed time does have its exceptions, such as when I have to get into the office early, catch a morning flight, run with my neighbor Emily, take care of sick kids, or help Nick finish his homework that we forgot to do the night before. But most days, I relish every extra minute of sleep.
Once I get out of bed and hit the ground running, thereâs no turning back. In a matter of one hour, I have to shower, dress, get ready for work, eat breakfast, make breakfast for the kids, help Anna pick out her clothes, dress the kids, change Abbyâs diaper, check backpacks for lunches and homework, check the calendar for carpool duty and other schedule changes, and get out the door. If we have carpool duty, that means we have to leave at least five minutes earlier to pick up Reed and Jack, so I really should have gotten up at 6:55 a.m. Most mornings, Iâm cutting it close.
Itâs humanly impossible to get all of this done in one hour. But I try. The morning is the one time I readily admit I couldnât do it without Doug. He does circles around me. By the time I roll out of bed at 7:00 a.m., he has already showered, eaten breakfast, read the paper, and had his coffee. (Mind you, I single-handedly put the kids to bed the night before while he passed out in his La-Z-Boy at 8:00 p.m. watching ESPN.) Heâs pretty handy to have around in the morning.
Even with Dougâs help, I still have to cut corners. The shower is the first thing to go. I can pull my hair back in a twist, spray on some perfume, and no one will know the difference. Showers are overrated, and most Americans are too obsessed with hygiene. I learned that in college traveling through Europe. Blonde Sister disagrees, but even she canât argue that Iâm pressed for time in the mornings. Besides, I much prefer an evening soak in the bath after everyone is in bed. Breakfast is also optional. My own breakfast, that is. I wouldnât be a decent mother if I let my children go without breakfast, but I can always grab something on the go. I used to get a toasted bagel with cream cheese, or better yet, a moist cranberry scone. Bagels and scones unfortunately ended with my low-carb diet, so I settle for some granola and a few nuts.
On a good day, it usually takes me twenty minutes to dress Anna and do her hair. The first dilemma: She canât decide what sheâs going to wear. She has one shirt she likes, âbutterfly shirt,â that she rotates with pink and brown pants. Butterfly shirt is ripping because we wash and wear it five times a week, but Anna doesnât care. She often prefers to get butterfly shirt out of the dirty clothes rather than wear something inferior. If Iâm lucky, sheâll settle for her leopard tank top. Unfortunately, itâs
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