Pacing myself has never been my strong suit. When I could roll over, I wanted to crawl. When I could crawl, I wanted to walk. When I could walk, I wanted to read. When I could read, I wanted to rule the world.
Just kidding about that last one. I never wanted to rule the world (at least not publicly)...too stressful.
The point is I’ve never been good at setting a steady pace. Even when I was little, my approach to saving money for a particular goal was “oh, I don’t need to buy clothes for another couple years…that can wait.” (come to think of it…I’m still that way. I credit my mom and SILs for keeping me clothed somewhat respectably, especially during maternity :P ). I’d pinch every penny I could trying to madly rush to my goal. And then when that wasn't enough, I'd buy 10 cent popsicles at Costco and sell them to my brothers for a buck whenever they'd hear the ice cream truck (hey, in their minds it was a bargain!).
And that’s how I came to be two years out of college, married, and with a baby on the way at the ripe old age of 22. Josh isn’t any better...he crammed four years of college into three to graduate the same year I did.
This pregnancy has been a major reality check for me. You can take 10 college credits in one summer, or squeeze the life out of every penny so you can take horseback riding lessons, or do a couple extra lessons in your English curriculum so you get more time to play later on.
But there’s not much you can do to hurry along a nine-month pregnancy (and it's not that I really want to…although Kekoa, if you’re listening, you should know that you’re technically considered full-term at 37 weeks. Just something to keep in mind).
Nope, we’re in this for the long haul. Literally.
And I find myself, here in the waiting period, jumping ahead to the next stage. Buy a house. Get a car with fewer miles on it so my parents can stop worrying about Josh’s uber-long commute. Get Josh through school and our new place needs at least three bedrooms so we have room for the next kids and…..
*deep breath*
I have to remember that I am 22. Most of my peers are finishing up their senior year of college. And while we’re emotionally ready enough to make those big decisions for our family, Josh does not need that extra stress as he finishes up his semester. Isn’t being a student, full-time professional, and soon-to-be daddy enough?
I don’t have a sewing machine. On my days off, I’ve been cutting up old t-shirts and pajamas and Snuggies and whatever random scraps of fabric I can find and making re-usable wipes, nursing pads, little hats and mittens. It would be a million times faster to use a sewing machine, and probably more durable.
But I’ve found that the hand-stitching is perfect for me right now. I take an hour in the afternoon – usually around the time my mom calls – and put my feet up and stitch away. I can keep my hands busy, which relieves that restless energy that apparently was pent up inside me at birth. That urge to go, go, go. I can stay away from number-crunching spreadsheets and parenting advice on the computer and just be still.
I sometimes feel lazy. At work I’m Miss Efficiency, and hand-stitching baby wipes would NOT pass the “capable co-worker” test. But I have to remind myself to rest, to enjoy the moment, to let the time move more slowly. To talk to my baby and feel him kick, and to remember that there's plenty of time to accomplish those other goals.
But these moments, just baby and me...those are the moments I will never have again.
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