Sunday, October 10, 2010
Even after a warm muffin with butter, I still feel completely drained. The girls are all finally asleep, bedtime was a catastrophe once again. I realized two girls probably have ear infections, not one of them really eats any of the dinners I cook, the house is still a perpetual mess and I'm completely out of dishwasher soap.
My carpets are dirty, my laundry's not folded and my errands aren't done.
My emails aren't answered, my hair's not clean and my weight's not lost.
Mothering and fathering is a sacrifice, a big honkin' one with fanfare and its own parade. It's shocking how much patience and focus is takes to care for the basic needs of those four little girls. It's back-breaking work, it goes unrewarded by the world and partially by my little ones. The constant exposure to noise and chaos renders me speechless by the end of the day.
But I want my girls to know. I want them to know I love them with all of my frazzled, peace-loving heart. The whole thing is theirs, to do what they will. I will ride every wave of anxiety, disappointment and frustration they will go through. Their highs and lows will be just as much mine as they will their own.
I can't look at this picture without shouting to myself, you are the luckiest woman in this world. Lucky to have those four little girls to watch over. I would pay millions of dollars to be their Mother Hen, but look! I get to do it for free.