Three Months

To be honest, I used to find it kind of annoying when moms said things like, "My baby is growing up too fast!" or "Slow down!"  or "Stop growing!"  I thought, "Growth is a good thing."  I relished growth.  Growth was the whole premise of my job as a teacher.  So what were these people talking about?

And yet, here I am today, wondering how my baby could possibly be three months old.  Here I am feeling sad that he will never fall asleep on my chest again, wondering if I held him enough when he was a newborn.  Here I am baffled that his 0-3 month pajamas are starting to get too tight, when I can so vividly remember his floppy newborn pajamas drooping off his feet at the ends.

 It is crazy to think that you only get ONE YEAR to experience your child as a baby.  One year.  That's it.  Sure, they'll still be cute as they grow, and each stage has it's joys and struggles.  But this unique, precious, baby stage has an expiration date.  Even though, at three months in, this is already the hardest thing I've ever done, I want to embrace and enjoy it.  I want to soak up every moment.  Because you never know when will be the last time he relaxes onto your chest and falls sound asleep.  They don't give you a warning.  You don't see it coming.  It happens when you blink.    

So I'll just say it, "My baby is growing up too fast."  While I'm happy about his progress, and I've found him only more delightful as time goes on, I can't say that I won't try to slow this process down.  Just a little bit.  Just in my mind.  

A Gift and a Sacrifice

All the time people say things to me like, "You are so lucky to be able to stay home with your son." I smile politely, but think, "Yes, but I'm also giving up a lot in order to do this."

I understand that there are some people in a bind financially or otherwise that makes staying at home a difficult--maybe even impossible--option.  Not every mom wants to stay home with her kids.  But there are people who would like to be doing what I am doing who are not.  I know that all of the time I get to spend with my precious baby is a gift (that's a good reminder for me on the hard days).  Still, I don't just get to do this because I'm lucky.  I make a lot of sacrifices that make this choice possible.  So, I think it's both.  Staying home is a gift and a sacrifice.

It is a gift because I don't have to divide my attention:  it all goes to my family.

It's a sacrifice because I am giving up a job that I love.

It is a gift because I don't miss any of Emerson's smiles or coos.

It's a sacrifice because I don't miss any of his fusses or poos.

It is a gift because sometimes I get to watch Netflix or listen to worship music while "on the job."

It's a sacrifice because sometimes staying at home without adult interaction all day makes me want to blow my brains out.

It is a gift because I get to stay in my PJs until noon.

It's a sacrifice because my pretty work wardrobe sits lonely in the closet collecting dust.

It is a gift because I am learning to be content living simply.

It's a sacrifice because I have to drastically cut back on eating out, updating my wardrobe, and wearing makeup from Sephora.

It is a gift because I can read Emerson as many books as I want.

It's a sacrifice because we can no longer afford to stay in hotels or go on trips.

It is a gift because I get all the snuggles.

It's a sacrifice because I never go off the clock.  My duties are the same during the evening as they are during the day and depending on how Emerson feels, all through the night.

It is a gift because I have energy to go on outings or spend time with people in the evenings and on weekends.

It's a sacrifice because my husband and I share one car, watch Netflix instead of cable, and use the Iphone 8 $20 phones from Walmart.

It is a gift because I get to invest in my son.
It's a sacrifice because I miss investing in my students.

 I am grateful for the life I have during this season, but I am also aware that it comes at a cost.  Staying home with my son is a gift, and a sacrifice.