Tuesday, March 30, 2010

I love my job

I do. I love my job. Many people do not see it as a "job," and tend to devalue it. I don't see it as a "job" like a chore; I see it as my career choice. I am all for women having the right to do whatever they want to do with their lives. If they want to direct movies or run corporations or become an astronaut or even run for President, more power to 'em! I love it that I live in a time and a country that women can do or be anything that they are called to do.

That being said, my job, my career choice, my calling, is being a mother. I had a great example of the kind of Mom I wanted to be growing up with my Momma. She stayed at home with Lucas and me. She was involved in everything we did. She took cookies out of the oven many days as we were walking in the door. We grew up knowing that Mom was there to support us in any way. Daddy was always there for us, too. And we had no doubt that we were a priority to him, too. But it was Momma's job.

And now, I am so blessed to say that it is my job. I love it. I do. And believe me, I KNOW how lucky I am to be able to stay home with my babies. I know that there are tons of families who do not have this luxury. And I tell the kids all the time that we are blessed and lucky and we should never take it for granted. I can never thank David enough for allowing me the honor and privilege to be a SAHM! There are many days that are frustrating and challenging, but that is true of any job, you know? I love being in the trenches and figuring out a new plan of action. I am fulfilled and happy, and I have purpose.

Jessa has started to "get it." She says to me, "Being a mom is being a lot of jobs, right Momma? Sometimes you are a nurse when we are sick or when we have a boo-boo. Sometimes you are a cook when you make our supper." It excites me for her to realize this. Now, five minutes after saying this to me, she is back to being her selfish, demanding self, but she has moments of clarity. She has brief glimpses of what all I do. And in those moments, she does not take it for granted. When she lists what she wants to be when she grows up, Mom is always in there. (It goes like this: Mom, paleontologist, fashion designer, vet, and more recently, a soccer player.) She also quite firmly believes that Mommas should stay home because "they usually bake better than Daddys do." I like the way she thinks. Baked Goods should always be a priority, wouldn't you agree?

Last weekend, we were busy and on the go all weekend. We got up and went shopping for birthday presents for birthday parties. And then we had lunch at Chick-Fil-A - a huge bribe to keep them happy as I dragged them on the many errands we had to run. We were in and out of stores, in and out of the car, and in and out of the house all day long. It was nuts. It ended with a bowling alley birthday party before we ran to Wal-Mart and to get something for supper. Whew!
And there were moments that the kids were close to killing each other in the back, and my head was pounding. There were also moments that they were sweet and precious and having wonderful chats. Sometimes Jessa was singing along to Radio Disney; Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber cause Beatles-like screams. And I was sitting at a red light in my "Mom Van" littered with coats and gloves and popcorn and empty water bottles and crayons and shopping bags and papers and who knows what else and of course, my two babies in their booster seats in the back. I looked around at the other moms in their mini-vans and SUVs sitting at the stoplight. It was a small break for all of us Moms, in between feeding them and birthday parties and baseball practice and grocery shopping and all the other things that we were doing with our babies that day. I saw all of my fellow moms and my heart swelled. I looked at this elite sorority of women, of mothers, and it hit me. This is everything I have ever wanted. My babies and me, going about the business of me being a mom and them just being kids.

Is every moment warm and fuzzy and wonderful? Uh, no. Are we a Norman Rockwell painting? Most definitely not. But is this everything I ever wanted? Yes! I am in my element. I am so fulfilled and SO happy. Do I get the laundry washed in a timely fashion? Not usually. But do we ever run out of clean underwear? Not so far. Do I get a healthy, well-balanced meal on the table every night? Not quite. But do we ever go hungry? Thankfully, no. Sometimes I do not even take a bath until I am headed to bed. Sometimes the groceries (all but the cold)sit in the bags overnight until I have a chance to properly unload them. But EVERY DAY, I love my kids. I listen to them. I laugh with them. I snuggle with them while we watch Spongebob or Phineas and Ferb. We eat Hershey Pie. We share stories from our day. We tell knock-knock jokes. I deliver them to practices or play dates or the dentist or parties. I read them stories and listen to Jessa read to me. I can volunteer for the PTO or be the class Mom at preschool. I get excited when I see Spencer's face light up and come running toward me in the pick-up line at school or when I see my big girl running across the street full of chatter about her day. I don't have to miss anything. I get to makes the lunches and the after-school snacks. I get to hold them when they have a bad dream or get their feelings hurt. And I would not trade any of these moments that pass so quickly for a perfect house or a rigid schedule.

I will close with a poem that it is on my counter so I can see over and over every day. It reminds me of what it most important. (I have posted it before.)
My Momma sent it to me years ago.
And I think it keeps me focused on my job, my career, my calling:
Oh, and I have the coolest little bosses ever!
They pay me in kisses and hugs!

1 comment:

Katie said...

Thank you so much for sharing this post with me. What a great way to start my day!

See you online!

~ Katie