Making the Sabbath Day Holy

The Church is emphasizing the importance of Sabbath Day observance to us members. At first, I inwardly groaned in the way I do about talks on missionary work. "Not another one! How many ways can we hear the same thing??"

I recently heard a devotional talk given by Elder Bednar to the students and faculty at BYU-Idaho. His talk, entitled "Repeat Over Again...The Same Things as Before," struck me. He said, We have learned to treasure the spiritual gems that are revealed through repetition. The distinctive nuggets of inspiration and spiritual knowledge that flow into our minds and hearts as we repeatedly teach and testify of gospel truths are the product of a line upon line and precept upon precept pattern of revelation. Repetition is a vehicle through which the Holy Ghost can enlighten our minds, influence our hearts, and enlarge our understanding."

Mike has been working on a talk this whole week about the Sabbath Day and I've been pondering the words he has written. It struck me that I've been looking at the Sabbath Day all wrong: in terms of what I shouldn't do. Don't shop. Don't work. Don't do homework. Don't exercise. But it is so much more about what I DO that is going to make the Sabbath a day of beauty, rest, and spiritual renewal.

Also this week, I've been working on a Sunday School lesson focusing on 2 Ne 3-5 in the Book of Mormon. Chapter 3 talks about Joseph Smith and his divine mission with the restoration of the Gospel. 

On my mission, we talked about the "Triad of Testimony." If the Book of Mormon is true, then the Church is true, because there wouldn't be a true book given to a false church. If the Church is true, then the Prophet Joseph Smith was called of God, because the Lord wouldn't have a false prophet restore a true church or translate a true book of scripture. My testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith is linked to my testimonies of the Book of Mormon and the truthfulness of the Gospel, but it doesn't really stand alone. I've thought a lot this week about why that is and I finally have my answer.

I interact daily with the Book of Mormon. I feel the pages of the scriptures in my hands. I listen to talks that quote the Book of Mormon. I ponder its words as I prepare my lessons. I teach its principles to my children. I testify to them them about their Savior, using scripture from the Book of Mormon.

I interact with the Church daily. I listen to conference talks by our Church leaders. I work on Sunday School lessons. My family attends Church activities. We have pictures of the temple on our walls. I bear my testimony about their Savior, using words of living prophets.

When do I interact with Joseph Smith? Rarely. I don't read about his life. I rarely read his words, lectures, and teachings. I don't emphasize his mission with my children. I don't bear my testimony about their Savior in relation to the teachings and life of the Prophet Joseph Smith.

This morning, I felt prompted that there is something I can DO on the Sabbath to make it better, to make me better. Every Sunday, I will "spend time" with Joseph Smith. I will study his life. I will read his words. I will teach my children about him and use his teachings as I testify of Jesus Christ. 

I can't wait to get started. 

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

We are home.

After 6 weeks of visiting family, going TDY to San Antonio, and being on the road, we are home. It was a fantastic vacation. I loved seeing our children getting to know their grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Here are some of the highlights that come to mind:
--Going to Temple Square and then grabbing some Thai food with my brother, Kevin.
--Having a "Salon Party" with cousins Sophia, Azure, and Eliza. We painted their nails, cut their hair, and gave them a fancy hair style. The girls had such a fun time together.
--Reconnecting with some good friends from Maryland who had moved to Utah. Our kids are the same age and were BFFs before we moved.  We loved seeing them again.
--Attending the blessing of my beautiful new niece, Ruby.
--Going to the zoo and feeding a giraffe.
--Playing games with my brother, Matt, and his wife.
--Commiserating with Megan about stupid dating experiences. And good dating experiences. And eating the most delicious waffles on the planet. And watching MST3K. Man, I miss my sister.
--Going to the beautiful Payson Temple with Mike.
--Arriving in Oregon from San Antonio and having Mike take me on a very nice, romantic date the next day. Underground Portland tour + Voodoo Donuts + Saturday's Market + Moroccan food + Papa Haydn desserts = Best. Date. Ever.
--Spending time talking with my sister-in-law, Debi.
--Driving to the Oregon Coast with Mom Clark, my niece, Katelyn, and my nephew, Daniel. We met Mike's brother and his wife at Cape Kiwanda. While I stayed on the beach with a deeply unhappy Ryan, Mike, Sophia, and everyone else climbed up a huge dune. I was impressed that Sophia made it to the top by herself. What a trooper! The Oregon coast is stunning. Mike and I have a pie-in-the-sky dream to buy some property and build a summer vacation home there.
--Our last night in Oregon, we stayed up late with Mike's siblings and their spouses playing games and talking. We were exhausted, but we didn't quite want the day to end. My in laws are the most fun, wonderful people.

Usually, when we leave family, we have a plan in place when our next visit will be. Although I'm sure it's not too far away, we don't have a plan in place this time and it's making me miss family more. I wish we lived closer.  I regret that my kids don't have consistent opportunities to play with their cousins and get to know their grandparents, aunts, and uncles. I feel bad that Mike is the one sibling that doesn't live within walking or driving distance from the others. And it's hard not to have a pity party for myself sometimes, too. It's hard not to live closer to family.

We arrived home just in time to watch General Conference. I love listening to the inspired words of our leaders. It was truly a spiritual feast this weekend. During General Conference, we were invited to "ponderize" the scriptures by picking a verse a week and contemplating it throughout each day. This is the scripture our family picked tonight at FHE:

Interestingly, when I spoke with my mom tonight, she said she picked the very same verse. What are the chances??

I'm not sure, but it was one of those non-coincidental coincidences that makes family feel closer despite the distance.

Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Nipples

One of Sophia's many toddler off-and-on interests (alternating with colors, numbers, Cars, Mickey Mouse, Frozen, clay, and animals) is body parts. She loves labeling them and pointing them out on other people. Luckily, she hasn't quite noticed diaper area boy vs. girl body parts yet. I'm bracing myself for that day, though, because it's coming. 

Lately, Sophia had started talking about other people's body parts in terms of relative size. She goes through this litany of comparative anatomy along the lines of "Daddy has big hands. Mommy has small hands. And Sophia had teeny tiny hands. And Ryan has teeny tiny hands." 

She was doing this in the grocery store the other day and the first few times I appropriately responded. But as she kept the repetition going with eyes, ears, head, and tummy, I started tuning her out with an occasional "uh huh, honey" that's enough to placate toddlers into thinking you're actually paying attention. (Except when she said that "Mommy has a small tummy" I may have gone overboard in praising her.)

After one or two minutes of Sophia's continued recitation, my attention was pulled back to her when I heard a couple of people snickering and noticed they were looking at my daughter--my beautiful and brilliant daughter who was proudly pounding her chest as she said, "Daddy has big nipples. Mommy has small nipples. And Sophia has teeny tiny nipples. And Ryan has teeny tiny nipples." 

To their credit, neither of them looked at my chest to see if what she was saying was true. 

The remainder of the shopping trip passed without incident except that I would randomly start giggling.

Sophia: Mommy, why are you laughing?

Mommy: Oh, I guess because I'm happy. 

Sophia: You're happy?

Mommy: Yes, you can tell by my smile and my happy eyes. 

Sophia: Daddy has big eyes...

If your tummy kinda hurts and you feel you've got the squirts...

So I feel I should clarify something from my last post. The reason Mike showed up after the cleaning was because he was fulfilling his calling by spending his Saturday morning supervising the Stake youth at an activity. 

In all fairness, he has to clean up waaaaay more messes than I do. Case in point, take a look at the picture (taken after Ryan woke up from his nap) Mike texted me while I was at work today along with the following caption: 

Guess how his shirt is doing that. 😷

If you guessed, as I did, that it was being stuck by poop, then you are correct. Mike further elaborated, "I noticed while wiping him that he had it up his back and, oh no....all over the carpet! I dangled him up to the bathtub, and then noticed it was all over my favorite pajamas - as I'd held him when I got him up from his nap. Sob sob. :,( "

Of course, all parties involved required extensive bathing. 

He hates having his hair washed. Ryan was also deeply offended that Mike had the audacity to clean out his mouth after he (Ryan) ate a bath crayon. Parents are such killjoys. 

He looked so handsome once he had cleaned up. 

It took Mike considerably longer to get the house back to pristine (ie poop-free) condition. 

Fun Activity of the Day

I've started this thing with Sophia we call "The Fun Activity of the Day." We've only been doing it a week or so, but it's something she really looks forward to. Poor Ryan always seems to be excluded because of his age. Also because the "fun activities" seem to be inherently messy and Ryan can amplify messy by a factor of about a trillion. ٩(๏̯͡๏)ゞ

While Ryan is napping, Sophia is helping me make mango cupcakes. 

She put all the liners in the cupcake tray, then ate dough and mango curd while I put the rest of the ingredients together.

After she licked all the dough off the whisk, she became quite bored. I ended up finishing the cupcake making myself and, in true "Little Red Hen" fashion, watched the rest of the family come by to help me eat the cupcakes after clean up was done. 

Worth it for the memories and to be able to get this picture:

Friends at Last

I love my siblings, each and every one of them.  Although we had our moments growing up, as all siblings do (and most of those moments probably stemmed from the fact that I was bossy and impatient), I can say without hesitation that there is not one of my siblings that I don't consider a dear friend. My life would be so sad without my siblings. The hardest thing about being in the military is being apart from family.

I don't remember life before Richard. All my earliest memories involve him in some aspect. He is passionate about family time and doing things together. He wants everyone to be included. We served missions at the same time. He was the only one I got to overlap with in school. He's smart and kind and patient. I just love that guy.

Whenever I think of Matthew, I think of him smiling. He is easy-going; I don't know of any person that Matt doesn't get along with. He is supportive of each member of the family. Matt is the embodiment of what a true friend is: loyal, trustworthy, and focused on the best in everyone. No matter what is going on, it's always better and more fun when Matt is there.

I love that Stephen and I can share what it's like to be doctors in the military and all the ups and downs that entails. He's got such a creative streak and I am in awe of how good his poetry and prose are (when he has time to write, that is). He did a phenomenal job on Mike's and my wedding announcement, books, and video. I appreciate how willing he is to share his many talents.

Megan is such a great friend and sister. I can do all the fun girl stuff with her, like look at shoes and talk about hairstyles and get advice on cute clothes. Before I got married, I would call her to commiserate over my dating ups and downs. She's a good listener. She has a great sense of humor and always makes me laugh. She is beautiful inside and out and I couldn't imagine a better sister.

Kevin will always be my bud. He and I used to make the family Halloween meals every year. Kevin embodies enthusiasm. He's enthusiastic about education, the Gospel, sight-seeing, and getting out with the family. He's always willing to serve and do things for other members of the family. Of all my siblings, I think he's the most like my mom--an embodiment of selfless service.

Because of the relationships I have with my siblings, I have been anxious for Sophia and Ryan to start bonding as brother and sister. I know they're young and relationships take time, but it broke my heart to see Sophia not enjoying being around Ryan. When we moved to Fayetteville, we decided to put them in the same room together. It was a gamble, because such a move that can either forge or demolish a sibling relationship.

Well, my heart has been overflowing with gratitude and happiness over the last few weeks, because these photos show what has been occurring more and more frequently in our home:

I have loved seeing these sweet little moments between them. It has become one of my favorite things about being a parent. I hope that friendship will continue to grow and deepen as they get older.

This Army Life, Part 1

We've been at Ft Bragg for about a month now. So far, so good. We've really enjoyed getting to know the people in our ward and moving into our new, clean, spider-free house without holes in the walls. And floors.

I would say that the more challenging thing for me is transitioning from "a doctor in the Army" to "an Army doctor." The doctor/clinic/hospital culture in the military is very different from those assigned to units in the "regular Army" (ie, not medical).

For example, every different Army post has its own "saying." Sometimes, when people salute, they'll shout the phrase at you and then there's an appropriate response you give. I was told it's a big thing in regular Army, but I've never heard a doctor say it. Also, I made it a point to wear civilian clothes to work, then change into my uniform when I got there, the whole phrase-and-salute thing hasn't come up much.  I never did figure it out when I was stationed at Ft Lewis. The two times people said whatever the phrase was (which I could never understand), I was always with someone who knew what to say in return ("courage").  Honestly, it really hasn't been that big of a deal.

Until Ft Bragg.

During my inprocessing week to Ft Bragg, I was hit with a barrage of crisp salutes and "ALL THE WAY, MA'AM!!" Which sent me into an apoplexy of anxiety. What do I say in response? Will they think I'm stupid or rude if I don't say the right thing back? After a few mumbled "good mornings" in response, I spent over an hour attempting to find what the correct return phrase was on Google and came up empty.

The next week, I started inprocessing with my unit. My first day with the 108th, I spoke with my NCOIC (Non-Commissioned Officer in Charge) and asked her what I say in response to "All the Way." I felt much better that she didn't know. We had to ask three people before someone knew the answer: "Airborne!"

On the way home, and armed with the correct return phrase, I felt much more confident.

Until I encountered a group of sergeants on my way to the car who saluted smartly and said, "NO FEAR, MA'AM!!" as one giant chorus.

But I had already primed my go-to response and my brain-to-mouth buffer didn't have time to engage, so even as I returned with "airborne," I inwardly cringed and they gave me a funny look.

I still don't know what to say to "no fear." It's a phrase that's specific to one particular battalion in this brigade. Before I remembered to ask someone how to respond, someone saluted with "DEEDS ABOVE WORDS, MA'AM!!" I didn't return with "airborne," but I felt bad giving a generic "good morning," when there's obviously a "right" way to answer that I just don't know.

This morning, I got "CRY HAVOC, MA'AM!!"

Okay, now, stop. Just stop.

Cry havoc??

What do I do with that?  You can't go changing phrase rules on me every week. Choose one. Apparently, each battery within each battalion within my brigade has their own saying to promote morale and unit cohesiveness. That's about 15 different sayings, and I've only encountered four so far.

So there you go. Lesson #1 in "The Physician's Guide to Transitioning to Real Army:" Unit cohesiveness and fighting strength depend upon the utilization of morale-boosting phrases given with each salute. Your Arminess can be measured by the volume with which you deliver the phrase, along with its frequency of utilization.

DEEDS CRY ALL THE WAY ABOVE HAVOC! TOTAL FEAR!!

6 Months Old

 Since I just did a blog update of Sophia, I thought I'd do a quick one on Ryan, who just turned 6 months old on July 7th. Over the last two weeks, he's learned how to sit up by himself. Look at those cheeks. It just makes me want to pinch them.

 He's so smiley! It doesn't take much to get him to laugh or smile. Unless you try to FaceTime with family--then, he's Mr. Stoic.

He loves to reach for everything within range, but especially food.  I think if we let him, he would eat non stop. We waited until Sophia was 6 months old to introduce solid food. Even then, I didn't feel that she was really interested or even understood the concept until she was almost 8 months old.

Not so with Ryan. He acted like he wanted solids around 4 months old. I held out until he was 5 months old and finally caved. He got it right away. He ate more that first week of solids than Sophia did in her first month of eating solids.

One thing I love about Ryan is how expressive he is. When he's excited about something (like food), his little arms go up and down like a little hummingbird. 

Ryan loves his big sister. Loves, loves, loves her. He watches her, gets excited when she's around (you can tell by the arms), and is always smiling at her. I wish I could say that the feeling was completely mutual. Where Ryan is concerned, Sophia's motto seems to be "We love with our hearts, not with our hands."

Sophia will get him blankets, toys, and his pacifier. She notices when he's crying and is concerned about that. But if you ask her to hug Ryan, she'll develop a sudden, all-encompassing interest in the wall or floor. If you ask her to kiss Ryan, she'll bonk  heads instead.  If you approach Sophia holding Ryan with the intent of having Ryan touch her, she'll cringe and run away. Sophia has been very slow to warm up to Ryan. But Ryan's a pretty friendly and good-natured guy, so I'm sure they'll end up being best friends.

One day.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Sophia

Happy 2nd Birthday,

 Sophia Jumping Bean

Silly Lily

Baby Girl!

 I love you how love Minnie Mouse

stuffed animals

singing songs

stories

stickers

and jumping.

 You're my helper girl

ray of sunshine

bundle of love.

I worry about your shyness

not being there for you during the day

your picky eating.

 The last two years with you have been full of wonder, excitement, and laughter.

Sometimes I wish I could pause time and keep you just as you are,

but I can't wait to see all the marvelous adventures the next year will hold for you.

I love you, my sweet little Sophia!

Mike's MPA

Life has been hugely busy the last two years for Mike. He has been working on his Masters of Public Administration from Villanova University every waking hour that he wasn't watching the kids. I don't think anyone will ever really appreciate how hard he worked and the sacrifices he made to do well in his classes. He made a goal to get at least a 3.8 GPA so that he could qualify for an invitation to Pi Alpha Alpha, a global honor society for individuals in Public Administration.

This week, Mike not only graduated from Villanova, but also accomplished his academic goal, graduating with a 3.89 GPA. This represents literally hundreds of nights of burning the candle at both ends He missed out on or cut short family activities. He had the self-discipline and determination to excel in his studies and also wrote and published articles in the field of Public Administration on the side. I'm beyond proud of him!

Kevin had come in earlier to visit and see DC, then my parents flew in on Thursday just to see Mike graduate. We really appreciate that they would come out and celebrate with us. They were wonderful and babysat so that Mike and I could spend an evening alone on a date. They also watched both kids during the graduation ceremonies. There's no way I would have been able to sit through the events if they hadn't.

Friday was especially chaotic. There was a torrential downpour that day. We spent the morning at Valley Forge, then drove to Villanova over 3 hours before commencement started so that our kids could nap in the car and then we could get something to eat. Ryan and Sophia napped for awhile, but then we woke them up a little prematurely so that we could get something to eat then change our clothes.

We only had one umbrella and we left our two-person stroller at home because of space limitations in our car. We hurried and changed our kids' diapers in the backseat, standing in the pouring rain, then carried them to the building with the cafeteria…only to find out that the cafeteria had barely closed. To top it off, the smell of Eau de Poopy Diaper filled the air and I had no idea which child was the culprit.

At that point, both kids were crying and I felt like joining them. Despite our best efforts, everyone was wet, tired, dirty, and hungry. I trudged off to the bathroom to change Ryan's diaper, in no mood to go back out in the rain and attend a 90-minute ceremony with kids who just needed snuggles and bedtime.  When I got to the bathroom, a flyer on one of the stalls caught my eye. On it was written a quote by Vivian Greene: "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain."

It was a simple thing, but it helped me to smile and take the whole situation in stride. 

We enjoyed Commencement. We survived the rain, the fatigue, and the whiney kids. I even laughed when my favorite leather strap shoes broke because they never, ever should have been anywhere near that rainstorm. 

We made it to Saturday, which had beautiful weather; Mike walked across the stage to receive his diploma. 

 Congratulations, Mike! Thanks for your hard work and dedication. I am so proud of you and feel incredibly blessed to be your wife!

My Little Ry Guy

Ryan Michael Clark was born January 7, 2014 just after midnight.  For those who read the blogpost a couple years ago about Sophia's birth, you know that we had some scary moments where her heart rate started going very low. Although it was scary, everything turned out well.

Ryan's birth was even scarier.

Again, before I left for the hospital to see if I was going into labor, I got a Priesthood blessing from Mike where he said that helping hands would attend us at the birth. Things appeared routine at first, but after my water broke, Ryan's heart rate started going very, very low. At first, it recovered after contractions, but my nurse and doctors were worried because his heart rate was taking longer to return to normal.

Finally, they were so concerned that they told me that I would either have to push him out NOW, or they were going to try once with forceps and then go for emergency C-section. I started pushing for dear life…Ryan's life. The doctors even had me push even when I wasn't having an active contraction. I pushed constantly between 3 and 5 minutes and Ryan was born.

When Ryan came out, he looked dead. I knew he wasn't, but he was so limp and blue that the pediatricians whisked him to the warmer and spent a few minutes stimulating him before we heard him cry. We truly had wonderful doctors and nurses in the delivery room. Many helping hands joined us to make sure that Ryan was born safely. 

I'm also sure that there were unseen heavenly hands helping us. I was praying very hard that I would have the strength to deliver Ryan. It's impossible to describe what goes through your head when you know that you--and only you--stand between your child and a potentially heartbreaking outcome. Having gone through the experience twice, I don't know if I have the emotional strength to do it anymore. 

In retrospect, I wish I'd elected for a C-section. Because I pushed him out so hard and so fast, I've had some painful postpartum complications that I'm still dealing with 4 months later. But this little guy is worth it. So, so worth it.

Ryan is such as sweet, happy guy. He loves to talk and be around people. He laughs all the time. Unless he's hungry, he's content to sit and watch you, but he gets the biggest smile when you go to pick him up. He's a fun and amazing addition to our family.

Here's Ryan in what I call his "Grandpa Rowley" outfit. For those who met my Grandpa Rowley, you'll know exactly why. Whenever Grandpa worked in the garden or on the farm, he would put on some overalls that looked exactly like this. I remember him walking out his side door whistling and doing a little hop/jig as he went to work. My grandpa has been gone almost 20 years now, but it still makes me happy that I can put this little outfit on my son as a nod to him and the lessons on cheerfully working hard that he taught me.

Here he is on picture day, happy to be getting out.

He slept through Easter.

As you can see through the last pictures, Ryan keeps putting on the weight. He loves to eat, and I mean LOVES to eat. His cheeks are so pinchable. I could just cuddle with him all day. We sure love this guy and the sweet spirit that he brings into our family!

Story Time

Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!

I was getting complacent.  Mike was nearing the end of his Masters program and we have two adorable, sweet children. Loved my job, the hospital, our friends, and our ward. I was starting to get used to the traffic and Maryland culture (an area that combines Northern hospitality with Southern efficiency, according to someone at church). Those are the times that some sort of life-altering change creeps up on you and startles the bejeebers out of you, forcing you to rely more on family and the Lord and less on yourself. It's not a bad thing, but it's a scary thing.

So our change looming on the horizon is that the Army is moving us. You might remember that they threatened to do it last year but then changed their minds at the last minute. Well, they changed their minds again, only instead of sending us to Colorado, they're moving us to North Carolina for two years.  And I don't get to be a developmentalist. I don't even get to be a pediatrician. I get to be a general practitioner for around 3,000 soldiers. It's a move and an assignment that I'm trying to be positive about, but deep down I'm looking forward to it like unanesthetized dental surgery.

Mike and I do something to help Sophia, who is a pretty anxious and timid child. When there's something/someone that intimidates her or that she wants to avoid, we say "hi" to it/him/her until she feels comfortable.  Hi, heater! Hi, blender! Hi, nursery leader! Hi, printer! People must think we're pretty strange.

In that vein, here's the mantra I've been telling myself lately:
Hi, moving with a toddler and an infant!
Hi, moving right after I get back from two weeks of training in Texas!
Hi, Fort Bragg!
Hi, regular hooah Army!
Hi, being a Brigade Surgeon!
Hi, having adult patients for the first time since 2006!
Hi, treating STD's, back pain, and ingrown toenails!

I'm sure it will end up being one of those blessing-in-disguise sort of experiences. I'm sure our family will end up loving North Carolina. I'm sure going to miss complacency, though.

Easter 2014

I love rediscovering holidays through the eyes of my children. This was Sophia's first real Easter where she understood a little bit of the activities.

She loved--and I mean loved her Easter dress.  I'm not sure if this is good or bad, but she understands when she looks cute. After we put on the dress, she ran over to the mirror and twirled back and forth looking at herself. I hope it's just that we're raising a daughter with a healthy self esteem and not a little narcissist. 

Our good friends, the Harmans, came over with their son who's Sophia's age to look for eggs.

She really couldn't have cared less about what was in the eggs, she just enjoyed finding them and putting them in the basket. 

And she loved going around outside with her daddy.

Ryan slept through the whole thing.

Daddy Is Magic!

Teething...

...is no fun.

She's usually much, MUCH happier than this.

On Being Her Mommy

Sophia is 8½ months old.

See this face! Is it not endearing???

How can this face, which makes me want to sing with sweetness at 4 in the afternoon, make me want to scream with frustration at 11 at night when she won’t go to sleep?

How can this little girl be one of the sources of my greatest joy and simultaneously of my greatest pain?

I remember the first day I went back to work after having Sophia and crying all the way to the clinic. I guess in my mind I thought (hoped?) that I would get used to the feeling. I naively supposed that it would get easier to leave her behind in the hands of her incredibly loving and capable father while I saved the world one autism diagnosis at a time.  

But, no, it gets harder. Unbearably,  excruciatingly harder. Sometimes when I walk past her crib on my way out the door, I pause and look at her sweet, sleeping face; and my heart aches so much at the thought of leaving, that for a few seconds I can’t breathe. And those are the good days. If she wakes up before I leave, I know I’m going to need to grab tissue on route to the car.

Then work ends. I drive home to my husband and daughter. I rush inside to kiss Mike, and Sophia reaches out for me like I’ve never left. Being with my family, my world rights itself again. I try to make the time I spend with them quality, since I can’t give quantity.  We play games and read stories. I rock her to sleep and hold her until she wakes up. I sing to her and teach her.

Last month, we worked on picking up pieces of cereal and putting them in her mouth. She got to where she could pick up the cereal, but she couldn’t quite get it to her mouth. Then, one evening, she did it! I was so proud and I excitedly pointed out to Mike what a wonderful, amazing, genius thing our daughter had learned. Mike had a funny look on his face and it occurred to me—that wasn’t the first time she’d fed herself.  Mike admitted that, in fact, she had done it just that morning.

For some reason, it broke my heart. I’m still not sure why I took it as hard as I did. It wasn’t like putting a piece of cereal in her mouth was a major milestone—not the way “first word” and “first step” are. But it was something that we had worked on together; and when she finally got it, I wasn’t there to celebrate her triumph, however small.

After a few minutes, I composed myself and put it all into perspective. If I didn’t leave in the morning, I would never get to see that she is beyond excited to see me when I get home. If I didn’t have to be at work during the day, I wouldn’t appreciate as much the time we get together evenings and weekends. Being a doctor has made me a better mother. And being a mother has made me a better doctor.

We’re blessed that Mike can stay home with her and she doesn’t have to go to daycare. At least one of us gets to be with her for all her “firsts.” And work is temporary. Only 4½ more years, and I’m done with Army life. Also a blessing.