I had my
proudest moment as a parent so far.
Lately I’ve been
struggling with one of my typical struggles again – trying to “do it
all.” When Emmie was born, I stopped teaching, giving up a
semester for maternity leave. Then the next semester, my class got cancelled.
Even though during that time I started writing this blog and we moved in with
Bruce’s parents, my main concern during Emmie’s first nine months was
being a first-time mother.
Eventually I
went back to being a college adjunct English instructor at two schools. We
moved into our current home, and in 2014 I started working part-time at the
house museum. Emmie was 2 ½ and went a couple days a week to daycare. Then,
last year when I was a few months pregnant, I started an adult creative writing
group at the local library.
Of course I knew
having a baby would add a whole new element to my life. But I didn’t want to
let anything go that was for me. Now I have a new baby; a four-year-old to take
to preschool and tumbling; my teaching jobs; the museum (which lets me work
from home, but still requires my time and attention); and the writing group; not to mention housework, like the loads of laundry for my husband, myself, and two daughters for whom people love to buy clothes. The other day I went out
into the yard and realized soon I’ll have to find time for yard work, too. If I only stayed at home and went to work, I might be able to get all of the above done. But on the weekends we like to do fun activities or visit with family and friends.
I feel like I can't keep up. And that means a lot of guilt, and a little resentment,
too. Bruce is amazing at taking as much off my plate as possible when he’s not
at work, but it's overwhelming for the both of us.
Yesterday, after breakfast and getting everyone dressed, I got
both kids in the car, took Emmie to preschool, came home, nursed Hannah, and
then started to fold a huge basket of Emmie’s laundry. I put away her socks,
underwear, pajamas, and pants into drawers, but the shirts and dresses I left
on her bed to be hung up later. Then Hannah and I were back in the car to pick
up a prescription from the pharmacy and to retrieve Emmie. At home I fixed
lunch, then the girls had nap/quiet time while I graded papers and did some work
for the museum. I grabbed a quick, much-needed nap, then showered and got ready. Bruce
came home with tacos because I didn’t have time to cook before my writing group
meeting.
“Can you finish
the laundry?” I asked as we ate. “There’s some in the washer and dryer, and
some on the floor upstairs. Oh, and I left some on Emmie’s bed that needs to be
hung up.”
Bruce nodded,
but then Emmie spoke up. “I put it away, Mama.”
“What?” Bruce
and I turned to look at her.
“I already put
my clothes away.” She smiled.
“You mean, the
clothes on your bed? You hung them up?”
“Yup!”
“No way.”
“I did!”
“I don’t believe
it. You put away your clothes, without me asking you to, and without saying
anything until now?”
“Yes! Do you
want to see?” She took my hand and led me upstairs to show off her good work.
I hugged her tightly.
I told her how pleased I was that she put away her clothes all by herself like
a big girl, how doing so was helpful and very much appreciated.
Emmie already
helps around the house in many ways, like feeding the cat and grabbing more
diapers from upstairs when her sister needs to be changed. But this was the
first time she took real initiative to do something on her own. She just beamed
from pride. And I nearly cried to see her so proud, and for how proud I was of
her.
Something as simple as Emmie putting away her laundry reminded me that time
keeps charging forward, and what seems unmanageable now will get easier. There
was a time when having one baby seemed hectic, but the baby grew up. Just as
Emmie is figuring out what she’s capable of, so will I.
