We just dropped the kids off with my parents,
our flight to Maui leaves early early early tomorrow morning.
It's weird to be home without the little ones.
A few days ago, I pulled out my camera every so often and took pictures,
just of our day.
This life, as a mother,
is hard. It's hard and it's glorious. These little ones need me,
and I need them.
Because, with each bathtime, each mealtime (six or seven times a day it seems!), each tantrum, each time I have to fish a toy out of the toilet, each time they throw their beads all over the floor right after I cleaned up, each time out and each lesson, each walk around the block, each storytime, each underdog on the swings at the park, each time I sit down and deliberately teach them something, each squeezing hug and each slobbery kiss on my cheek,
I'm becoming more of the woman I want to become, the woman my Father in Heaven wants me to become.
It isn't easy. Far from it. And most days I have moments where I feel like I'm going to go mad with the repetition, the do-a-job-then-do-it-all-over-agains.
But I've been trying, in those moments, to think of a scripture:
"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these, my brethren,
ye have done it unto me."
"For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty and ye gave me drink...
"Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me."
(Matthew 25: 35, 36, 40)
It's hard to stay frustrated with the tiresome parts of my job when I think about these verses. As I serve them, feed them, clothe them, nurse them, teach them, and refill their cups each time they're "firsty," I'm serving these dear ones and I'm serving my Savior. How can I resent my work?
These little ones.
I love them so.
And when we come home in a week, I'm going to remind myself to gladly clean up their beads, just so they can dump them all out again in a few minutes. And then I'll work on teaching them to clean up for themselves, even when they're suddenly "SOOOO tired!"
Because that's what mommies do.