All week long, I get up and get moving in the morning rushing through the things that must happen. Me getting ready for work, little Katharine up and about, catching up with my nanny, looking at my calendar wondering how I will make it through a schedule that looks unmanageable, and out the door. It feels like a race to a race.
The weekends are another matter. I love the hour or so I have been getting before anyone is up. A factor of being 8 months pregnant. I am up by 6 am these days regardless of the need. Sitting on the coach, laying in bed, reading and just having a minute to celebrate quiet. Until I hear the pitter patter of little feet coming up the stairs. Enough to make anyone smile. As I sit here and type this, I realize that in eight weeks this moment of silence will likely go away with baby boy Snavely's arrival. Ah well, celebrate what you have when you have it.
A hard realization during moments like these are that I have very few of them. I remember before kids I would read books about becoming a mom, and a working mom, and recognize the change that was coming in my life. Now change is the reality. Taking time for myself now in my life is a luxury versus the norm. And, truthfully I struggle with prioritizing that time ahead of time with my family or my job. But life is about tradeoffs...I have the most adorable little girl (in my humble opinion), a great husband and a great job. For that, am I willing to make the tradeoff of a "scheduled" personal break. For certain! My only guidance, to anyone who cares, is to think about the choices you make and don't let them feel happenstance. You are more than capable of doing anything, but being conscious of your choices helps you not to regret or to dwell in the negative side of them.
I love my choices...however hard giving up my weekend mornings will be eight weeks from now! Wouldn't change them for the world.
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