I’m sitting here typing while the baby is napping and my preschooler is having a quiet time. There is a perfectly moody scene out our window, with darkened bare trees sketching veined lines across the silvery sky. Thunder rumbles ominously and the clouds suddenly open up, releasing a heavy shower that turns my view into a watercolored scene. I sip my freshly made tea as the scent of vanilla permeates the room through my wax warmer, which bathes the darkened room in a golden sheen of comfort nearby.
Then the diarrhea hits.
You see, I’m just casually taking breaks every 20 minutes when my son bursts out of his room and tells me he has to go potty. It’s been like this for three days now, and we’ve developed a bit of a routine. I help clean him up, which sometimes requires a change of clothes, make sure he gets a drink, cuddle and tuck him back into bed, then I clean up the bathroom while fighting a flood of nausea through it all.
Mom Life is Messy
Earlier in the week, I wrote about balancing work and home life, and I think I just barely touched on a fact that rings true for me pretty much every day: things won’t go as planned.
Allow myself to quote…myself.
I still have days where I’ve had very little sleep, where sickness hits us like a ton of Kleenex (there are never enough!), or where all sorts of bodily fluids end up on the floor. Sometimes a “successful” day is one where everyone is fed, clothed, and loved, and nothing more is accomplished. And that’s not only okay, it’s evidence of a life that’s in good order.
If you’re like me, things are pretty much ALWAYS like this. I can’t create the perfect schedule for my daily life at home with the kids and expect it to be followed. My kids just don’t fit in a box.
Mom Life is Ministry
God is always reminding me that Kai and Sylvie are my ministry. They are precious, amazing, and in dire need of everything I have to offer. What I do is valuable, and I’m so humbled when I remember that God chose me to be their mother. I’m central to them, I’m their lifeline, and sometimes they are mine.
I had a long time, 32 years, without them. It’s with all this in mind that I’m reminded what I know to be true down my very bones.
They don’t interrupt my life, the other things interrupt our life together. They aren’t stopping me from pursuing my passions, they are my passion.
That’s why I’m actually happy to help my son through this disgusting mess, why I nearly throw down my laptop on the floor to rush to be with him, why I feel every high and low and pain and joy that comes into my little ones’ lives.
I look out the window at the storm that’s suddenly hit us, and I remember that the rain is bringing life to the world around me. The clouds have already lifted, and a hint of sunshine is starting to glimmer over the newly formed puddles. It won’t be long before color returns to the trees and grass, and all too soon winter will turn into spring, and my son will be four instead of three.
That’s why I’ll take rain with my sunshine any day, just to be with these precious ones who color my world.