enjoy them

Parenthood is hard.  By far the hardest thing I have ever experienced.

If you were to ask my husband how many times he has walked in the door after a long day of work only to find a frazzled wife on the verge of tears, I'm sure he wouldn't be able to count them all.

I've wanted to be a mother all my life, but there have been days throughout this journey that I've questioned my ability to actually care for and raise these children. 

When I was younger, this is what I imagined when the word "motherhood" came to mind:
  

Sitting in a beautiful chair, snuggling and reading to my darling, clean, well-behaved child.  My hair is fixed, my clothes are in perfect condition, I've got my heels on.  My home is clean and dust-free.  All the toys are in put away and dinner is simmering on the stove.

Does this make anyone else laugh and/or roll your eyes?  Yeah, me too.  What a hoax!

I think I can speak for everyone when I say that this might be a more accurate image of what motherhood is really like:

The look on this woman's face makes me laugh.  It's totally as if she's thinking, "Seriously.  Seriously?  I chose this?!"

Every once in a while, we can get through the day with no tantrums, no spankings, well-eaten meals, a house that's in fairly good condition, good attitudes.  Unfortunately, that's definitely not the norm.  Many of our days consist of...
 stopping what I am doing to go figure out why one of the boys is crying, breaking up fights, multiple spankings, discussions of why we shouldn't do certain things, cleaning up messes, forcing strongly advising certain children that the food I put in front of him get eaten, changing diapers, changing wet pants and underwear from certain children that didn't make it to the potty in time (while feeding the baby her bottle all at the same time), addressing heart-issues with my older child, talking about why the attitude he just had was inappropriate and disrespectful, folding mountains of laundry, asking children to get out of the basket of clean laundry, getting snacks and water for children who cannot.get.enough.to.eat., remind child that saying "get me a snack" will in fact get them exactly the opposite, giving an overly-tired baby her paci repeatedly until she falls asleep, bathing a baby who had a massive blowout that extends from her bottom all the way up to her neck, scrubbing the carpet where said blowout occurred, needing to pick up oldest child from school and having to discipline child who will.not.stop.coloring.even.though.I.said.lets.go.eight.times, waking up angelic sleeping baby to put in the car to go pick up said child from school, cooking dinner while stopping multiple times to help a child use the bathroom, get a coloring book, break up a fight, turn on a movie, kiss a bumped head; get children ready for bed, hug, kiss, say prayers, say goodnight, child comes out of room to ask a question, you answer question, child goes back to bed, child comes out one more time to ask another question or to tattle on the other child, child gets in trouble for coming out again, child goes to bed, finally falls asleep, parents crash on couch.

That's my day in a nutshell.  Ok, that wasn't really a nutshell, it was more like a short novel.  Be thankful, however, because I know I could add much more that list.  I didn't want to bore you to death, though.  You're welcome.

There are some things that happen in between all those events above that I didn't include:
Baby girl smiles at me when I go to give her the paci even though she's been crying for 15 minutes, my littlest boy cradles my face in his hands and tells me he loves me, witnessing the boys sitting on the couch reading together, oldest boy helping little brother use the bathroom, checking on my children who are coloring to see that they have been sitting quietly for 20 minutes coloring a picture just for their mommy, hearing one (or both) of the boys tell me "yes ma'am" when I ask them to do something, oldest child telling little brother that if he obeys mommy, God will be so happy; walking behind the couch and finding a very elaborate castle built out of blocks, boys asking politely for things they want, my three-year-old taking some flowers out of a vase and bringing them to me while exclaiming "happy valentime's day!".

There are so many moments that I just stop, sometimes fight the tears, and realize what a blessed woman I am.  When I sit and think about just how CRAZY my days can be, I always say that I would never trade it for a career.  I would never give up wiping noses, changing diapers, kissing boo-boos, and even disciplining my children.  No career could ever give me the joy that I experience by raising these precious little people.  I feel like the Lord has really laid it on my heart lately to enjoy my children while they are young.  As hard as it can be sometimes, I know without a shadow of a doubt that I will miss everything about this season of life.  There is a quote that I put on Facebook yesterday that really hit me hard when I first read it...

"If you are still in the process of raising children, be aware that the tiny fingerprints that show up on almost every newly cleaned surface, the toys scattered about the house the piles and piles of laundry to be tackled will disappear all too soon and that you will - to your surprise - miss them profoundly." - President Thomas S. Monson


I believe with all my heart this this statement is true!  Sometimes, when I think about my children going to college, and my house being clean and quiet... I shudder.  I get choked up.  I think about how thankful I am to be realizing this now, rather when my children really are grown and living lives of their own.  One day I will have time to do everything I want to do.  Read books, go shopping, run errands all alone, go on endless dates with my husband, have lunch alone with a friend, get pedicures, cook nice meals in the quiet of my home, watch my favorite shows whenever I want to.

For now, I will savor the wet kisses, sticky fingers, toys scattered all over the house, laundry baskets filled with tiny clothes, a refrigerator covered with handmade pictures, sippy cups in the floor of the car,  toys under the sheets of my bed, toothpaste splatters all over the kids' sink, my baby girl yelling at the top of her lungs, just because she likes the sound of her voice; fingerprints on the windows, the sounds of my boys crazily wrestling on the floor, colorful cups and plates in the kitchen, and each and every time I hear, "I love you, mama."  These things will disappear all too soon and I know for sure that I will, indeed, miss them profoundly.