My whole perspective on life has changed. Everything I once thought was important no longer occupies space in my thoughts. I dreamed about having a white house with a big porch. I lost summer weeks and gave up evenings at home to work extra jobs to fill my bank account. Time in the gym was insufficient if it didn’t result in a six-pack. I am a creature of habit, and I filled my days with endless tasks; the hustle was all I lived for. Owning a house, a substantial bank account, a shined-up vehicle, the ideal body, and a career people respected – that’s what success is, right?
Not a soul uttered these words in the nine months leading up to Poppy’s arrival: ‘You’re about to meet someone entirely new. And it’s not your baby, it’s going to be you.’ Yet, this is the truth I’ve come to realize. My values remain unchanged, but my perspective has shifted.
I’ve come to embrace the joy of simplicity. True happiness isn’t confined to a big white house. It’s found in Marlow’s smile peaking through the bars of her crib, illuminated by the morning light. A large backyard isn’t necessary to enjoy a BBQ; our five-by-five-foot area in front of our garage is just as delightful. I no longer trade my evenings at home for a $60 check from officiating basketball games. Instead, I treasure our family walks to Sweet Peaks or moments on the stoop with Marlow Bug cooing and diving for ants.
I used to dedicate my early morning hours to fitness. It took me a while to be okay with whatever workout I did during my lunch hour these last few months. The lack of fitness resulted in a lot of frustration and resentment. Kody asked me what my fitness goals are. Easy, ” I want to be healthy. I want to feel good. I want to be able to snow ski with my grandchildren in my 70’s.” Nowhere in our conversation did I talk about what my body should look like. I found my entire view of my body had shifted. I used to criticize it; no matter my strength or endurance, it was never good enough. Now, I have nothing but respect for what my body did and can do. It nourished Marlow from when she was a PoppySeed until she was seven months old Earthside. Isn’t that incredible? I now accept the cellulite and stretch marks. I discovered that our bodies aren’t meant to be forced into what we think they should look like, but they need to be respected for everything they are capable of.
I am so proud of my career as a teacher. I love teaching children, and even if I were financially able to stay at home, I would still choose to teach America’s Youth. I never missed school. I am still determining if it was pride or a hustle mentality, but I wasn’t willing to miss a school day—until this year. I am embarrassed to look up how many sick days I have taken this school year to be home with Miss. Marlow Girl on days she wasn’t feeling well. My students will survive the day without me, and work will always be there the next day.
Don’t get me wrong, there are moments when my brain questions my new perspective on life. Old habits are hard to break. However, there are places in your heart you don’t even know exist until you love a child. What once was important in the past seems funny in the present moment.
I often think about the end of my life. At the end of my living days, whether that is next week or in 40 years, what truly matters? Spending moments with the ones I love and who love me. It’s that simple.
I will never again wish for a big house. I will only hope for a home where my whole family lives.
I don’t need a substantial bank account. I only need enough money to fulfill our basic needs.
Daily exercise and overall health is perfectly okay at this stage of life.
Work will never take precedence over family.
If you are able to tuck in a healthy, peacefully sleeping child into a warm bed in a safe home, you’ve won the lottery of life.
I am a living millionaire.