Part of the kids' homework this week was to talk about the weather. Meteorologist Claire said, "I think it looks halfly sunny and halfly snowy!"
I've been working this week. My in-laws are out of town, so I'm covering the funeral homes for them. I always have mixed feelings about working. For the most part, I don't mind and even sometimes enjoy the actual work. I know, "enjoy" being a funeral director sounds strange. But I do enjoy being with people, coordinating everything for the services and being helpful to the family as they go through the funeral process. And, I won't lie, I enjoy the break from my normal routine of mommy-hood. But one of the things that I enjoy the most is the feeling that I have when I get back home. That feeling of THIS is where I'm meant to be. THIS is where I do my most important work. THIS is where the little mundane things that I do create a home for my family and impact their lives forever. It's so nice to have that reminder every so often. I know that I am blessed to be a stay at home mom, but after washing the same dishes that I washed yesterday and doing the same laundry that I did yesterday and reading the same books that I read yesterday and squashing the same arguments that I squashed yesterday...well, you get the picture. Sometimes, it can be easy to forget just how much of a blessing it is to have those dishes and laundry and books and arguing kids. A few days of work and missing out on all those little things gives me a fresh perspective and a reminder of how much I LOVE being "just" a mom and a wife. So, I pretty much have it made. I only have to work every so often and when I do work, I mostly enjoy the work and it gives me a solid reminder to enjoy NOT working even more!
Here is an entry I made recently on our blog (my girls and I):
ReplyDeleteI have great regard for the grownup people my children have become. I could not love them more. I have watched every moment of their lives when they were still at home and follow still as much of them as I can now with facebook, texting, emails and the occasional phone call. The courage and passion I held to through the years deciding to stay at home and raise my own children—really raise them—looks awkward and provincial to people now. I stand up tall and declare it was not a mistake. And God has honored the choice and we have suffered very little materially for it. We have held things loosely and learned not to miss the vacations we didn’t get to take and the new cars we didn’t drive. I would do it all again. I am ferocious about this. It gets me into trouble. I know there may be a daughter who will leave my grandbaby with a caregiver. That will cut me like a knife and I will pray all the more.