This past month has been an exhibit of adjustment, compromise, rearrangement.  I started work, Audrey started day care.  We started a new chapter in our story, and the three of us are finding ourselves surprised at how smooth the transition has been.  Audrey is thriving. Every dark fear of her replacing me is squelched by her bright face and dancing feet at home-going time, bringing new words and cute crafts with her that just warm me to my toes.  You know what else warms me to my toes?  A rock star husband who is helping out way more around the house and doing it all with a smile and an exorbitant amount of understanding, make me feel just plain silly for worrying about our “role adjustment.”  Thank God for a good man.
There are moments now, at least twice a day, where I find myself smiling out loud because I realize it again: I get the opportunity to do something I am crazy passionate about. For the person who thinks they have to become someone else or borrow traits from those who appear successful, know this: “Before I shaped you in the womb, I knew all about you. Before you saw the light of day, I had holy plans for you.”  (Jeremiah 1:5) I have never, and will probably never, feel totally equipped or ready for what is put before me, and that is so the point.
Speaking of not being ready, you should know this: we had McDonalds for dinner at least twice in the first ten working-momma days.  So, yes, it has been an adjustment and there have been, and will be, growing pains.  It just so happens that sometimes growing pains are wrapped in yellow paper and taste like a little piece of salty, beefy, cheesy paradise.  Other times they taste like hot fries and a fudge sundae.  I’m just saying.
While this has been an exercise in adjustment, there are some things I just don’t seem to have time for anymore.  I need to run more, read more, write more.   The other day I was wondering how to solve this dilemma and then I realized it: Run. Read. Write.  So, this morning I ran.  And here I am, hot cocoa in hand, Christmas carols playing, sweet girl sleeping—writing, reflecting, letting the balm of me-time soak deep into the winter skin of my soul.
Making space for this important time will require the ability to recognize and say no to some things that I no longer have space for in my life, even if it means I am saying no just so I can stay home and do nothing.  It’s like painting over a beautiful, busy mural with plain white paint.  Sometimes you need wide open and white space.  Sometimes you need to say no, for no good reason. So, cheers to saying no so you can yes to the things that matter – like sharing fast food and slow conversation on a tired Tuesday night.

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