How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.
My days might look like this:
But my life…looks like this:
And that’s a darn good life.
Poopy diapers, dirty toliets, and endless meals are tiny in comparison…
to the joy of raising my children.
I can’t imagine a better way to spend them.
I love this life…
this life as mom.
No one said it would be easy.
But no one told me that I’d forever wonder…
“How can it get better than this?”
No one told me that I would want a toddler around for the rest of my life.
No one told me that I’d wipe away tears everytime I’d open a photo album.
Or that I dare not even watch a home video…without having to leave the room to regain composure.
No one told me that I’d reminisce with a close friend every chance we got about the early days of motherhood and how we want them back.
No one told me that when I hit 40 I’d panic with the thought of fleeting fertility.
No one told me that one day I’d be the one writing letters to moms in the harried days of little ones saying, “Hold onto it with all your might, don’t worry about a thing…these are the precious days before you have to let the world in.”
No one told me that once I became mother everything else in life I’d ever do would be insignificant in comparison.
No one told me that I’d never ever want these days to end.