Our day starts at 5:03am. It is the exact moment that the alarm clock rings and I struggle to recognize what is going on as I emerge from the deep sleep I succumb to nightly when I finally get to close my eyes. My husband climbs quietly from our bed and slips into the next room to get ready for work. He is out the door by 5:30. In those 27 minutes before he leaves, I say a prayer, read the news via my iPhone and check in on email and social media. It is my few minutes of being me without needing to focus on anyone else in my family.

At 5:30 I climb out from our tangled mess of sheets, go to the bathroom, brush my teeth and slip into my robe. I pad silently down the hallway. Kiss my husband goodbye, let the cat in and quietly slip into our daughter’s room. She is 6 months old now, and I wing a prayer of thanks again to God for another night of her sleeping all the way through so that I am a functioning adult when I get to work. I break the cardinal rule of waking your sleeping baby, but as 6am approaches I only have so much time. I raise her tiny sleeping body to me and steal her back into our room. We lay back down and I nurse her until 6:30. It is my favorite time of day right now as I soak in every minute of her babyness. I complain to no one about the early hours and long days as I drink in my alone time with her, when I don’t have to share her, because at 6:30 the separation begins. Into her bouncy seat she goes. She watches me shower and dress and put on my makeup. She watches me clasp my watch that signals I’m running out of time. At 7:15am my high heels are on. I play games with her and sing as I go through the daily motions. At 7:20, Grammy shows up. My amazing mother cares for our beautiful daughter five days a week. She arrives at 7:20 and stays until my husband comes home from work at 3:30. I am ever thankful that I have her, and that I don’t have to worry; my mother is simply amazing. I hand over Amelia to her grandmothers waiting arms. My mother tells me what my father is up too for the day and what my sisters have divulged to her since yesterday. She chatters and plays with Amelia while I make my smoothie and a to-go cup of tea. At 7:45 I am standing in front of my 4runner. I wave goodbye to the two of them, shouting I love you and blowing kisses. I disappear from my daughters eyes for 9.5 hours; I waiver between grateful to go to work and a mothers guilt.

I work for a powerful agency. My day is filled with mental exhaustion, the safety of others as a priority and hours spent before computers, electronics and various other things. It is not an easy job; it is a big job with many pressures. I am thankful for friendships there that break up the day. I am thankful for pictures my mother sends of Amelia throughout the day. I love the thoughtful texts from my husband. I try and find my balance of working mom, wife, self. I change like a chameleon, minute by minute. One minute I want to climb the corporate ladder and break every glass ceiling in my way. The next minute I want to spend the day watching our daughter grow, and not step foot inside a government agency again. Either way I slice the pie, I am proud of myself and my accomplishments. The clock strikes 5pm. I head home; weary but about to start my second shift.

I say these things with a painfully honest humility. I have a beautiful life, and extraordinary life really, but it doesn’t come easy. It is work from sun up to sun down and then some. Each of us goes about doing our daily tasks, and some days end prettier than others, but we continue to keep going and pushing forward.

I wrote the intro to this post almost 2 months ago. The writing was for one of my last college courses to obtain my Bachelors of Science in Criminology. Working full time, going to school full time, being a mom, wife, friend….you name it, it’s no joke. You will have the moments that you cry in the car in the driveway, exhausted, feeling like a failure in all capacities and wondering what in the heck you are trying to measure up to. You will also have the moments that you look around and think, this is me,” I can’t believe I am doing this, this is crazy, I just wrote a 20 page paper, made dinner from scratch, worked nine hours nursed a baby and hung out with a baby and I think I had half a conversation with my husband. I am so excited to get in bed before midnight! Its 11:30 pm! What should I do with myself?” I was somewhere between delirium, psychosis, and somewhere between domestic Goddess and the lady on the front of the Atlantic magazine article that ran last year with the mom who, “had it all” with her kid half hanging out of her briefcase during the magazine shoot. I realized when I submitted my last final and graduated Cum Laude just four weeks ago that realistically, something’s gotta give.

While I thought I had everything, “together” the reality was closer to me on the verge of wanting to just sleep, or cry or both. While I admire women in the work place, and women who stay home, it is hard to find the balance, to weigh the benefits, to give up dreams of yourself or shake the guilt off your shoulders. If you go to work forty hours a week and love your job, you must surely be a monster who loves her career more than child. If you give up your job for your kid, well, then you’re a sell out. No. You are not either. You are human. We women are so hard on each other. From the makeup to the measuring up, we judge and criticize and not a single one of has all the answers. I am the mom, who loves her career, but I would never sacrifice my family, and yep we eat a ton of organic here in our house, and I make baby food from scratch, but guess what? I let my kid, my 6 month old have some of my ice cream sandwich, and I let her play with a stick in the mud in the back yard, yep, I am also, that mom. I will not tell you that every day is a walk in the park. HA! I can tell you that if I did not have the support of an amazing family, I wouldn’t be working full time. I can say that I am thankful and that the minute I think I am not measuring up; I remind myself that I am enough. There is a plan for me and that if I pray….all day long it sometimes seems…that I can make a difference.

It was not until just recently that I had recognized a couple things, and take a hard look at what it was that I was trying to accomplish and then I had a reality check, or as I like to think of it, God Smack. The moment you realize what you have been asking for from God has been happening, but you were missing all the signs, even though it was right in front of your face. Yep, that’s me! Such a great listener sometimes…

The night I submitted my last paper for my class was stressful. It was 11:49 pm and I was rushing. Rushing is a term I associate with the last year of my life. I literally rushed through the last year. Every detail, every daily task was designated to so many allotted minutes and wrapped up in pretty boxes. I didn’t have time to derail for even a moment or every ball that I was juggling would come crashing down. I had life planned on a minute by minute schedule. It was the only way I could manage a baby, husband, work, school and life. I was the queen of over committing and saying yes when I should have said no. You need an extra person for the softball team tonight? “Sure, I can squeeze it in!” I sang on the worship team, and though I loved it, and was so grateful for the fellowship and worship, there were moments that I was standing on stage and it took so much grace from God to keep myself composed, to be in the moment and not calculating my next minute. I actually had a friend I hadn’t seen in about two years come up to me after a friends CD release concert and say, “ Sarah, you look exhausted, where is your joy?” Hmmm, glad to know I looked like this while on stage… Ya know what though? She nailed it. I was worn. In fact, as I stood in the shower that night and looked down at my feet I had to laugh. I wore open toed wedges for the show, and didn’t have time to paint all my toes, so I only painted the toes that could be seen…..classic move, Sarah.

We didn’t miss a barbeque or birthday party. I didn’t want to think, or let anyone else know, that I couldn’t do it ALL. Suddenly though, suddenly I finished school and the revelation of all we had accomplished in a year came crashing down. I stood before my husband dressed as cute as a girl with bags under her eyes could muster; a bag packed and the baby dressed all for a fun day in San Fran, celebrating my degree. I looked him in the eye and said, “Do you mind if I just lay down for a minute before we go?” A minute turned into a 3 hour nap. I awoke to a calm house, an unpacked bag and a delivered pizza. I slept some more and some more. It was two weeks before I began to function, before I realized how strong my husband had been through all of it. How giving he had been, and supportive, and how he took the brunt of my physical, mental and emotional crazy spell. Something’s gotta give. A career change, a move, new city, new baby and a college degree all wrapped into a big beautiful present all gained within 350 days of each other. It was an impressive feat on my husbands and I’s part.

So what’s next they say? We nap. I don’t rush. I let go a little. If Amelia isn’t in bed by 7:30 because we chose a trail run or a stroll with ice-cream, oh well. I spend Saturday making batches of baby food, and jarring salsa and singing and dancing around the kitchen. We laugh, we argue because I am too stubborn for my own good. We slowed down. I don’t over commit. If anything, I am under committing this last month to make up for lost time, to revel in the family time and giving myself time to run, to reflect and to pace myself.

I measure up, we all do. Saying something’s gotta give is not a failure. It is realizing that you can have your cake and eat it too, but you might have smaller servings, and that’s what it’s all about right? Quality not quantity, everything in moderation…those little sayings that have big meaning. I don’t have a plan for tomorrow, it’s kind of exciting. I know that the day will entail snuggling my baby, and conversations with my husband, I will bake something and blend something and we will make messes and get around to cleaning them up, I’m in no rush. That’s the real beauty of giving in, it means you get to rest and take the time to be thankful for all the things that are right in front of your face.