I love my job. I was finishing up some things around the house this evening after I put the girls to bed and I just had an overwhelming feeling of love and gratitude for what I do. I also had the feeling that there maybe a time in my future (who knows maybe it will be tomorrow) where I need a slight reminder of this which is what prompted me to write this down.
It is currently 8:35 p.m. Esther has been asleep for the last hour and Nora fell asleep about 15 minutes ago. My day was full. Here it is in review.
Today I cuddled in bed with my girls; got myself and two other human beings dressed; dusted; did laundry (and our dryer is broken so I dried things the old fashion way); cleaned the kitchen multiple times; played blocks; colored; sang ridiculous songs about spiders, monkeys and crocodiles; had a tea party; read picture books; watched cartoons; had one of Esther's friends over to play; scared a pigeon out of its nest (which was on my balcony); changed 8 plus dirty diapers; helped Esther go to the bathroom x amount of times (have I mentioned she's potty trained...yay!); visited with a friend, teared up while peeking in on Esther "reading" her scriptures in her room by herself; cheered audibly when Esther pooped in the potty...twice; breastfed Nora a bajillion times; had meaningful conversations on the phone with 3 women I love; stared adoringly at my baby x amount of times; took 20 plus crappy quality pictures of my girls on my phone; gave my baby a bath; made breakfast, lunch and dinner with one hand; and felt grateful every (not every) minute of my day.
Does it get monotonous at times? Yes. But what job doesn't. And I am with my girls. I get to literally watch them grow, hear them coo, wipe their tears, teach them, praise them and love on the full time. Do you know how beautiful that is? Sometimes I have to remind myself but when I remember all of the tantrums, messes and stress filled days seem worth it.
The other night, as I was drifting off to sleep, my day played through my mind and I saw my girls' faces. I imagined Esther at Elinor's age and thought of how quickly we've come to potty training, full sentences and playing make believe and I realized that I don't want to miss a moment of it. I realize that this sounds like a romanticized version of motherhood, but aren't moments like these the ones that keep us going on the hard days?
I thank God (today, not every day) that I am able to stay at home with my babies. And I hope that I will always remember the meaning in what I do. How often when asked what one does do mothers' respond, "I'm just a stay at home mom," (actually I don't think I ever use the word just in my response) but tonight I say, "hells yes, I am a stay at home mom" and nothing could make me happier!
