I just can’t do it.  I want to do it, I want to take advantage of the half tuition discount, I want to earn a teacher license, I want to be a “lifelong learner…”

… but can I tell you what I want more?

I want to have free evenings.  I want to get off work at 5 p.m.  I want to cook dinner at night.  I want to know that two of my nights a week aren’t being spent sitting in a classroom for three hours.  I want to read a book like I used to, just because I like to read.  I want to wash the girls’ clothes and lay out their outfits for the next day.  I want to not collapse in bed when I get home at night.  I want to spend time working on the materials for the class I’m teaching this semester, not the class I’m taking this semester.  I want to take the girls to watch Gosling play soccer in the evenings.  I want to take them to run in piles of leaves.  I want to read blogs.  I want to find a television show I like and actually watch it.  I want to take a long bath before bed.  I want to write in my diary. I want to be available in case by some miracle I’m asked out for coffee again.  I want to sit by the bathtub while the babies play in the water.  I want the master’s degree I already have to be enough for now.  I want to answer the hundreds of emails in my inbox.  I want to spend time on myself, whether it is selfish or not.

It may not be the best decision I’ve ever made, but it is the decision I’m making, right or wrong.  And that is why, as soon as I press publish on this post, I’m going to quietly shut down my laptop, pack up my things and walk out of the classroom.

It’s still August, which means I’m still going on “girls’ dates” with each member of my fab five.  This past weekend, on my way home from the mountains of North Carolina, I took the long way home so I could stop by Knoxville for a little date with MacKenzie!

For each “date,” I pick what we’re doing, mainly to keep the girls from asking to be taken to Disney World and also to keep things as fair as possible.  For MacKenzie’s August date, I decided that we’d spend an hour or two playing at her bedroom in her dad’s apartment in Knoxville.  While that probably doesn’t sound like a very thrilling date to you, it is something that MacKenzie routinely mentions to me — how she wishes I lived in Knoxville so we could have fun at her apartment, on her own turf.

When I showed up, it was obvious that MacKenzie had been preparing for my arrival.  She presented both a gift bag and card to me as soon as I walked in the door.   The card read: “Just a little something for you because everything you have done for me. P.S. You funny.”  It’s okay, you can cry at the darlingness of it all; I did, too.

Ready for another dose of preciousness?  The gift bag was one of the bags I put her birthday gifts in from a couple of weeks ago.  Even more precious?  For her birthday, I gave her some “do-it-yourself” craft kits because she’s very into those types of things right now.  So, for my “gift,” she had made the crafts for me.

She also threw in some Silly Bandz.  It’s serious when a child offers you her Silly Bandz.

Once I had properly oohed and ahhed over all my gifts, MacKenzie and I got down to business: the business of shopping, that is.  She had set-up several toys throughout her bedroom that she wanted me to “buy” so she could ring them up on her cash register.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough pretend money to cover everything I decided to buy.  As you can see from the picture below, this greatly grieved MacKenzie.

Luckily for me, she was able to give me a discount and I was able to purchase my jewelry, clothes and perfume in La Boutique De MacKenzie… with change to spare!

In addition to playing several rounds of “store,” we laid out and counted MacKenzie’s collection of Silly Bandz because, hello, everyone needs to take inventory of their Silly Bandz collection at least once a day.  Obviously.

When we finished playing, MacKenzie was hungry so I took her to Arby’s for some popcorn chicken and girl talk.  We discussed school, boys and why I cannot move into the apartment that is available for rent directly above her apartment.  Or marry her dad.  Or move into her apartment.

I can’t wait until September’s date with Miss MacKenzie!

I like to call this post

a collection of my weekend of rest in the mountains of NC.

– — –

Admiring Cara’s ability to toss a scarf over her shoulder.

Being grateful that Cara’s mom fixed us brownies

and was just one of the girls this weekend.

Diet orange Crush.  Need I say more?

Showing Cate funny YouTube videos.

“You are so dumb.  You are really dumb.  Run and tell THAT.”

Cara reading US News & World Reports

and our taking the “emotions quiz” in the O magazine.

(I got “emotionally stuck.”  Is this surprising?  No.)

Cuddling with the puppy and with the Cate.

As it turns out, rest looks good on me.

It’s late Sunday evening and I’m in bed, propped up against the wall.  I’m not above telling you that I’m sleeping in the fab five’s room tonight, due to the following reasons: none of them are here tonight, so I have the bed to myself; their bed is more comfortable than mine and, lastly, what 25 year old girl wouldn’t enjoy sleeping underneath a pink tent?

I had the most fascinating, intense weekend.  Long before I knew I would be taking care of three of the fab five last week, I had made plans to go out of town with my cousin Cate and my friend Cara.  It is so difficult for all three of us to find time when we can all be off work at the same moment, so even though I had Ryan’s girls, I didn’t want to cancel on my weekend plans.  A family watched the girls so that I could sneak away after work on Friday and sneak away I did.

We went to a small North Carolina town for the weekend, a town that I’m very familiar with because I spent awhile dating someone who lived in the town.  I have a lot of memories from this town, mostly centered around my time of dating him, so I was a bit apprehensive about heading back that way.  He is happily married now and we’ve had no contact for quite awhile now, but I was just afraid of how it would feel to make that drive.  I spent most of Friday in a bad mood, dreading the drive and frustrated with myself that I was dreading it.

I had two and a half hours in my car with no cell signal, trapped alone with God.  I was listening to a random mix of music from my iPhone when one of my favorite songs came on — You Were There by Avalon.  In the song, it talks about how God was there during various biblical moments and, near the end while naming different things that God is, the words “You are the God who understands” are sung.  I am thankful for a lot of things about God, but at this season of my life, I am utterly grateful that He is the God who understands.

He is the God that understands that, while I was driving those twisty mountain roads, I wasn’t crying because I missed that ex-boyfriend.  He is the God that understands that I just miss being loved by a lover.  He is the God who knew what it would mean to me that my friend Cara’s parents took care of us this weekend.  He is the God that understands that getting an extra hour of sleep on Saturday was what I truly needed after weeks of being woken up by little girls.  He is the God that understands how fast my heart was beating anytime we ventured out to a local restaurant, one that I had memories from that dating relationship.

On Saturday night, Cara’s parents took us to a fancy resort where we had one of the best dinners of my life.  The resort had horseback trails, a luxurious spa, everything.  As we walked through the lobby to go to the restaurant, I couldn’t explain how much the beauty of it was taking my breath away.  This might sound silly, but one of the things I’ve always thought would be so great about marriage is trying to sneak away for weekends together every once in awhile.  This resort was the exact type of place I’ve dreamt about and, sitting there in the middle of it, I couldn’t help it — my heart hoped just a little bit that, one day, I would spend a weekend there with someone who wanted to love me while I loved him.

I have been trying so hard to let go of my desire to be in a relationship.  I cannot tell you how many of my diary entries are filled with me begging God to take that desire away from me.  I’ve searched scripture for examples of why it would be great to live my life single, I’ve made lists of how much more I could do for God if I was single, I’ve forbidden myself to want to be loved in that way.

But the truth is that I do want it.  I cried on my way to North Carolina this weekend because I know what it feels like to be loved and I miss it.  I miss having someone in the world to help take care of me.  I want to be loved.  I want to love.  I want to have someone to come home to after a weekend away with friends.  I want to build a future with someone.  I want someone to fall asleep beside tonight.  I have tried everything I can think of to get rid of the desire but, try as I may, it is still there.

I honestly hate writing about it anymore, because I feel like I just sound like a broken record.  I sometimes imagine you on the other side of the screen, seeing me write about my singleness, and skimming over it, knowing that it will say much of the same that many more of my posts have said.  I understand that.

But when you’re living it, it’s different.  Tonight is isn’t some blog post I can tie a cute bow on and press “publish.”  It is my reality, my very reality, the story I am living out right now at 12:08 a.m. on Monday morning.  It isn’t some miserable life; I have the fabulous five girls, my two darling puppies, a job I enjoy, etc.  I do have many good things, I know, and I try so very hard not to take them for granted, I promise.  When I press publish on this post, I’m going to feel guilty about complaining about my life.  I am blessed in the truest sense of the word.

I am also a little lonely.

“Loneliness is the first thing which God’s eyes named ‘not good.’” – John Milton

I knew that August was going to be crazy,

but I had no idea just how crazy it would be!

In addition to work and the girls’ birthdays and such,

we’ve had the start of school, of course.

My goal is to be there for as many

of the girls’ moments as possible,

which means that I have to be on my game in August.

– — –

MacKenzie’s school had an open house

and she asked if I would come up for it.

Earlier this week, I made the drive to Knoxville

with a college girl nanny in tow to entertain

Angelina, Juliana and Olivia at a nearby Chick-Fil-A

while I went with MacKenzie to her open house.

I suppose I could have brought the other girls to the school,

but I try, whenever I can, to give the girls the attention I know they need.

It was really important to MacKenzie that her dad and I

attend the open house together, with her, so that’s what we did.

This meant driving to Knoxville and back twice in one week,

(since I went one night for the open house

and one night for her birthday)

which is hard, especially when you’re pretend parenting

three other little girls.

When I got tired of being on the road this week,

driving back and forth between the two cities,

I reminded myself that there will never be another day

when MacKenzie has her third grade open house

or turns nine years old.

How could I miss either of those things?

Exactly.

– — –

August means back to school for the girls,

but it also means back to school for me.

I’ve been asked to teach an undergrad class this fall (!!!)

which begins next week

(the class is in Religion, which is what my masters is in).

In addition, I’m currently signed up to take two grad classes this semester

towards a second masters, this time in Education.

Here are the reasons I’m taking more classes:

1. because I work at the university, I get a discount on classes

2. believe it or not, I really love to learn

3. apparently, I have lost my mind

My classes began this week and, with Ryan out of town,

I had no choice but to take the girls to school with me that night.

My three little ducklings, aren’t they darling?

I placed the girls in the hallway,

where I could watch them do homework, play Candy Land, etc.

from my seat in the classroom

(thank you, windows in the doors!).

Another woman in my class had to do the same thing,

so we both sat where we could watch the kids playing together.

I realize that this wasn’t the best case scenario,

but trust me, the girls were in my eyesight at all times.

I am mainly telling you this because, in 3.7 seconds,

my mom is going to send me a text about this.

– — –

Near the end of the class,

the professor began talking about research methods

and I began wondering why I was in class.

I reminded myself it is because I want to learn

and be more qualified for whatever God has called me to do.

About that time, the classroom door opened

and in walked Juliana, four years old.

“Amy Beff, I don’t want to be here anymore.”

The entire class burst out laughing

and, luckily for me, the professor did, too.

(He met the girls after class and was charmed by them!)

(But really, who isn’t?)

Anyway, as I sat in the three hour class,

I couldn’t help but notice that the guy sitting next to me

was… different.  Not weird.  Just different.

Near the end of the lecture, I looked over

to find the following on his computer screen:

(faces have been blocked to protect my grade in the class)

If you can’t see it, click on the picture

and be amazed at the drawings of hearts and lightening bolts.

The worst part was that it reminded me

of Edwin from Edwin’s Corner,

the video my college girls and I love to watch together.

So, I started giggling.  And kept giggling.

It was awful.  I just couldn’t stop.

Finally, I made myself think about how sad I’d be

if something happened to Snuggles or Cuddles

and I stopped giggling at Edwin and his pictures.

– — –

On the way back to my car after class,

the girls and I practiced their new class behavior:

peace and quiet.

I know it is hard,

but try not to be jealous of the cuteness

that surrounds me on a daily basis.

I have a lot to write about,

but I’m kind of uninspired to write

about anything but the girls.

Ryan is still out of town,

which means I am still playing pretend caregiver

to Angelina, Juliana and Olivia.

I say “pretend caregiver” because

I just can’t take myself seriously,

mainly because I have no idea what I’m doing.

I’ve had them for a week now,

but we’re settling into a good routine.

Baths, pajamas, bedtime.

You real mothers would laugh at me

if you could see me trying to figure this out.

I feel like I’m learning something new every day.

– — –

Last night, Juliana kept having nightmares.

This morning, as I saw her

curled up on the edge of my bed,

I was reminded of how little these girls are

and how I need to do more than

bathe and feed and clothe.

I must, must, must love them.

I’ve got to find a way to do the “work”

– the bathing and feeding and clothing –

while pouring out plenty of emotional love.

It is not enough to be bathed and fed and clothed…

it just isn’t.  They need love, emotional love.

And so this morning, before I woke them up,

I asked God to show me how to love them

in the middle of tending to their physical needs.

They are at day care and school now,

but I’ll pick them up in just a few short hours.

There will be more baths and dinner and pajamas…

and prayers and songs and kisses goodnight.

Life is funny sometimes,

when you’ve been wanting something to love

and then it just shows up when you least expect it.

It keeps me busy, that’s for sure.

And it teaches me how to love, definitely.

It reminds me of how much I want to be loved, too.

One of my sweet college girls

(who gave me permission to tell this story)

recently ended her dating relationship.

I knew she was having a hard time with it,

so I texted her to ask if she’d want to meet me

in the campus dining hall

(I work on their college campus)

for a little pasta and talking through tears.

She assured me she’d like to meet me for lunch,

but didn’t know what time she could get to the dining hall

because she was currently having her hair done,

which is always a great way to deal with a break-up

in my humble opinion.

I texted her back to ask how much longer her appointment would be

and this is what I got in reply:

“Not sure… I got it highlighted too,

so she’s blowing it out now and then gonna shape it up.

Boy is going to miss me bad.”

As you know from my post early yesterday morning,

MacKenzie turned nine years old yesterday!

I told you last week that her birthday was last week,

because I had my weeks confused.

I woke up one morning, thinking it was a week later

and actually tried to show up at a meeting

that wasn’t, actually, being held.

Luckily for me, I hadn’t slept through a full week

and after nailing Juliana’s birthday last week,

I could easily concentrate on MacKenzie’s birthday this week!

– — –

As soon as I finished up with some work stuff yesterday,

I picked my Cleveland-based girls of the fab five up

and we, along with one of my college girls, Anna,

hit the interstate to Knoxville!

MacKenzie thought that just her dad and I

were taking her to dinner for her birthday,

so you can imagine how excited she was

to see her fab five counterparts!

MacKenzie had selected O’Charley’s for her birthday dinner,

likely because of the rolls.  What girl doesn’t love bread?

After we got settled, we went ahead and opened some gifts!

Each of the four non-birthday fab five got to pick out a gift for her,

and, of course, Anna and I had gifts, too.

She loved her presents!

The plan was to take the girls to see a movie after dinner,

but dinner ran way too long for that.

I came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea,

and decided that, after dinner, we’d take the girls to the local puppy store.

You do remember the puppy store, don’t you?

It’s only one of my favorite place in the world…

cribs full of puppies, all waiting to be held… sigh.

The problem was that the puppy store closed

while we were still finishing dinner.

I slipped away from the table

and called the store three minutes before it closed.

I got the manager on the line and asked if they do birthday parties.

Shockingly, they don’t.

Even more shockingly, they don’t do them after the store closes, either.

I explained that I had five little girls with me

and that it was one of their birthdays

but he remained unimpressed.

I then offered a little encouragement in the form of a cash bribery

to let me bring the girls to the store after hours.

And, wouldn’t you know, suddenly the store offered

after-hours birthday parties — imagine that!

I honestly didn’t mind to bribe him;

it was worth it to see the girls’ faces

when they got to go into the store

after it was closed — it was just us!

As it so happened, yesterday morning was my appointment at the hospital

for some pre-tests for my big appointment at the hospital next week.

My white blood cell count has been too low,

so guess who got two shots of steroids yesterday?

I couldn’t safely transport four of the fab five

on a three hour round trip car ride,

so Anna, one of my college girls, signed on for the adventure.

Notice Anna’s expression in the above picture?

My favorite thing about my college girls and the fab five

is how deeply the fab five scare my college girls

away from having children one day.

You think I’m joking, but one day we should let them do a guest post

of their own adventures helping me corral the fabulous five.

As recently as this last weekend,

three of them — Anna, Stephanie and Chelsea –

watched three of the fab five

so I could take my cousin Cate out for lunch for her birthday.

I returned to many amusing stories from their afternoon with my college girls,

the most amusing being the one about how Olivia took her diaper off,

crawled under their dining room table

and purposely peed on the ground

because she was pretending to be a puppy.

As my college girls were telling me the story,

all I had to say back to them was that,

the next time they find themselves on a hot little college date

with the boy who sat behind them in Calculus,

I hope they remember that kids in the backseat cause accidents.

And accidents in the backseat cause kids.

– — –

Bonus material, just because it’s Wednesday:

the fab five, together in the puppy store,

narrated by me whilst losing my voice:

This past Sunday afternoon,

we celebrated Miss Juliana turning four years old

with a little visit from our friend, Cookie Monster!

I had a couple of ideas for different themes for JuJu’s party,

but once I saw this cake, I knew there was no going back.

Cookie Monster, it was!

I went with the whole blue theme

and had some juice containers on ice…

as well as offering a “milk and cookies bar” for JuJu’s guests.

Are these not the most darling little milk bottles you’ve ever seen?

After having their bottles of milk with their cookies,

the kids got to have more milk with their slices of cake –

this time in “Cookie Monster” cups!

(All you need is a glue gun and a little creativity!)

We had balloons, of course…

And the Cookie Monster keeping an eye

on everything, of course!

JuJu was very excited

– and a little overwhelmed –

with her birthday party!

I can’t believe we didn’t get better pictures of the guests,

but we had a bunch of different people there

ranging from my college girls to my cousins Marisa and Cate

and, as a special treat for me, Aviean and her mother!

I was so glad to have Aviean’s mom at my house,

and the girls were, too, especially when she pulled out

princess crowns, wands and jewelry boxes for all of them!

Now you see where Aviean got her gorgeousness from, don’t you?

Don’t let Olivia fool you; she was having fun, too,

but the sugar overload was a little much.

After having lots of different types of cookies,

it was time to open presents!

Juliana received all kinds of darling things

from books to dress-up outfits to new toys!

I even ended up in one of the pictures

thanks to one of my darling college girls, Nina!

Here I am oohing and ahhing over JuJu’s new puzzles.

After all of the gifts were opened,

the little girls (and boys!) decided that Cate was in charge

of opening all of the packages up so we could play!

We missed having MacKenzie at the party,

but she had a party in Knoxville to go to,

so I couldn’t bring her down for our party.

Juliana’s dad also wasn’t able to be at the party

at the last minute after having a death in the family.

He’s actually in Florida for a few days, for the funeral,

so guess who has been in charge of three girls

since last Friday at 5 p.m.?

It’s been an absolute delight,

and we still have a couple more days to go, too!

If you need me,

I’ll be the girl toting little girls around

pretending like she knows what she’s doing.

P.S.

Want to know what Juliana told me she wanted for her birthday?

“I want you to take me to the dentist, Amy Beff.”

I had to go into the other room

so I wouldn’t cry in front of her.

And now I’m going to start crying again.

– — –

P.P.S.

Don’t miss little Miss MacKenzie turning nine today!

It is birthday central with the fabulous five these days.

Oh, MacKenzie — it is your BIRTHDAY!

You are nine years old today

and I just don’t think I’m going to allow it.

In fact, I’ve decided you have to start going backwards.

Next year, you’re eight.  Then, seven.  You can’t grow up!

But growing up you are; I see little glimpses of it all the time.

– — –

MacKenzie, let me tell you about you and me.

You are at a place in life where you are able

to be more verbal about needing me

and yet less verbal about needing me at the same time.

You are the oldest of the fabulous five,

so I feel like you and I are in uncharted waters sometimes.

I’m learning each day how to love you more,

trying to take clues from you and God.

Whenever you read this when you’re older,

I want you to know that you were deeply, deeply loved

as a little girl but also as a nine year old girl.

Happy Birthday, Miss MacKenzie.

We’re going to make being nine oh so fine.