When I was a teacher, just a few short months ago, I used to believe teaching was the hardest profession there was. In fact, I’ve been known to tell people that very thing.
Now that I’m a stay-at-home-mom, I have changed my opinion and believe mommy hood is the hardest job there is.
More than likely if I was an artist, I’d think that was the hardest profession to be had.
The toughest job, I’ve discovered, is the one I’m presently working.
Suzanne gave me a devotional book for moms. “A Time-Out for Busy Moms”. I’m not sure if that really exists. The book was in good condition when I first received it, but now the edges are ruffled and torn, tiny bite marks have dried the corners. When I sit down to read it, EK is usually in her favorite spot, my lap, and she would rather chew on it than let me read it.
She is a blessing and a challenge. The simplest things are no longer simple. Showers, toilet breaks, eating. She has no regard for my basic needs. She is an infant. A selfish, needy, narcissistic little baby, just like every other baby that was ever invented. She is at my feet when I fix a cup of coffee or when I wash the dishes. If I walk away, she scuttles after me dragging her leg like a little hermit crab calling “mama, mama, mama”. When she’s not at my feet or on my lap or in my arms, I must watch her like a hawk. She’s exploring and discovering and learning things the hard way, like how a mousetrap feels on her little fingers. All this, and we’re not even in the difficult age yet. Give her enough time and she will be putting Cheerios in the toilet and displaying her artwork with permanent markers and nail polish on the dining room table.
To date, the biggest mess she’s managed is unloading about 15 wipies one by one, only after tasting each one first.
And yes, I took a picture.
I know other moms have this thing figured out. They are doing a better job of it I know. Their babies sleep through the night. In their own beds to boot. They eat their veggies and take a bottle so their mamas can leave them for more than three hours at a time.
I ain’t gonna lie, it’s a tough gig, and I’m doing the best I can.
Today she fell asleep in my lap and I was able to pick up my mommy devotional book. We rocked while I read and it was one of the most peaceful and gratifying moments I could experience. As I gazed down at her sleeping face, the corners of her mouth turned upwards and a small smile spread across her mouth. I imagined the angels were whispering in her ear. I couldn’t help but smile too.
In the big scheme of things, this baby stage is such a short time in the span of her years. Instead of wishing this and wishing that, I need to learn to appreciate every nuance and detail. Before you know it we’ll be driving her to college.
I’m sure when I leave her in the dorm room, she won’t be the one crying then.