How Marvelous…

Today was one of those days that sort of flies by – school drop-offs, laundry, an endless loop of chores that never seem to be done.  I nursed the baby every 3 1/2 hours and put her down for naps, managed to order some Christmas presents and make myself a quick lunch.  Made a couple phone calls for Dr.’s appointments and confirmed plans for Thanksgiving with my Mom.  It wasn’t until 1 pm that I realized I hadn’t really TALKED to another person.  Like, really had a conversation that didn’t consist of factual information.  By the time I did the pick-up routine and busied the girls for the afternoon, my mind had reached this frenzied state.  I had spent the whole day having conversations in my mind, reciting to-do’s and going over how much milk I needed to freeze to cover our New Year’s getaway.  When Vann walked in the door, he remarked that I seemed “on edge” – and he was right.  I was.  I was UNDER-socialized.  I think that’s one of the scary things “they” don’t tell you about motherhood – how utterly isolating it can be.  We all have these days, right?  You’re scouring Facebook, and all you see are the kidless vacations and fabulous playdates – vacations that feel very far away when you are cradling a newborn and playdates that seem, dare I say, glamorous when you have baby spit-up on your neck that you haven’t had the time to wash off, oh, in 2 days?

There are times, after living in the “big” city for 10 years, pursuing a dream I thought would be a reality, a life that was mine and mine alone, that I wonder what the next chapter will be, when my kids are all in “big” school and I’m left with all those hours without little ones to diaper and potty train and put in time-out.  What does the Lord have for this would-be writer, budding merchandiser, Shakespeare-loving dreamer?  What is the next piece of my story?  I wish I had a small picture of it now, to get me through the long days.  And I’m sure I will look back on these years fondly, as many people do.  I just wish I didn’t feel so damn lonely sometimes.  And it’s not for lack of people that love me – God knows we have been loved fiercely by our friends, especially this third time around.  But out of sight, out of mind – and I fear that’s the case with people sometimes.  I mean, we’re all doing our best, as my hubby likes to remind me.  Most people, are doing the best they can.  Little V is 10 weeks today.  The evening fussiness has drastically improved, she’s basically dropped the middle-of-the-night feed and is going 10:30 – 6 or 7 most days.  She’s smiling back more, cooing a bit and generally a very sweet baby.  It’s hard to believe that 10 weeks ago the Doc “made a door and pulled her out” (a quote from the Real Housewives of Atlanta that I just love, shows you what I’ve been watching a lot of these days) – and that part of my life as a woman is over.  The baby-making part.  I am officially done, physically and otherwise.  And while I knew this day would come, I am conflicted.  It was time, for us – we knew 3 made us complete.  But at some point in the not so distant future, I will send little V off to Kinder and be faced with what’s next.  Because it does really go as fast as they say.

I hope if you’re a Mom to little ones you have your village around you.  I don’t know what I would do without mine.  Today was a lonely day.  But I guess I was too wrapped up in all of it to notice at the time.  It’s only now, after the house is quiet and all seems real, that I am aware of it.  And maybe next time I will do a better job of reaching out for my village.  Because just because you have three kids it doesn’t mean you don’t struggle with the same things you did when you were first running these roads.  Motherhood is a journey.  You are watching pieces of your heart literally walk around you, living their little lives outside of your body.  It is the greatest exercise in letting go that ever existed.  Plain and simple, you are not in control.  You are doing the work.  The good work that the good Lord set out for you to do. And for now, that’s enough.  And don’t misunderstand.  It really, really is enough.  More than enough.  This song came on Pandora as I’m writing this:

I Stand Amazed (How Marvelous) I stand amazed in the presence
Of Jesus the Nazarene,
And wonder how He could love me,
A sinner, condemned, unclean.
Chorus:
O how marvelous! O how wonderful!
And my song shall ever be:
O how marvelous! O how wonderful!
Is my Savior’s love for me!

He took my sins and my sorrows,
He made them His very own;
He bore the burden to Calvary,
And suffered and died alone.

When with the ransomed in glory
His face I at last shall see,
’Twill be my joy through the ages
To sing of His love for me.

This made me think – see, Amanda, He sees you, load after load of laundry, hours upon hours of nursing that baby, taking your 4 year old to the potty – especially when she insists on taking off ALL of her clothes to go to the bathroom – not having dinner ready most nights of the week, Christmas decorations strewn haphazardly all over the house, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse for the 50th time today – He sees all of it and He knows.  And how marvelous, indeed.