I have a unique job. On call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year, for the rest of my life. I have had every bodily excrement from another person on me at some point during this job. I have been lied to, kicked, hit and yelled at. I have had more sleepless nights than I can count, followed by non-stop busy days. And recently, I was promoted and have twice the responsibility I once had. Yes, I'm a mother. A mother to two beautiful, brilliant little girls. And, I wouldn't change a thing.
There are some days, when I have to consciously make the choice to be an "active" part of my role. Most days, the energy, creativity, patience, positive attitude and optimism comes easy. We fill the days with crafts, songs, activities and playing. The smiles of the girls fill my heart with joy and make every difficult aspect well worth it. Other days, I have to take a step back from the explosive poop, constant mess, cleaning, crying and whining and give thanks. Give thanks that I have been chosen to fill this unique job, this perfect role, in my daughters' lives. A role that no other person in the universe can fill, a role made specifically for me.
Today was one of those days. My youngest is challenging me with sleeping issues, and although my husband reminds me it is a short term phase, it sure doesn't feel like it. Granted, she is 4-months old and I fear my expectations for her to sleep through the night might be unrealistic. Given I know she has done it before (for several weeks at a time), I KNOW she can do it again. I struggle internally with how long to let her cry, when to go in, when to comfort and when to let her soothe herself. I lay awake at night, waiting for her to cry, hearing her cry, waiting for her to stop, and the cycle repeats. With each cycle, I beat myself up, doubting my actions or my lack of actions. No decision seems like the right one.
My oldest is up early each day with energy 9 pots of coffee couldn't provide me. Normally her energy is infectious, but with limited sleep, constant doubts of my ability, and the growing anxiety that some issues may never pass had me a bit incapacitated in the energy department today. Not getting the attention she clearly thought she deserved, my 3-year old decided to challenge me in more areas today. Nothing dramatic, just basic 3-year old attention grabbers. And so, today, I took a few moments (ironically while cleaning poop out of my daughter's hair) to give thanks.
I give thanks that these opportunities are given to me. I give thanks that I am the face that my girls see everyday, who helps them and challenges them, just as they help and challenge me (more than they will ever know). I give thanks that although I have doubts in myself, that my children don't have doubts in me. I am super woman to them. I can fix any toy, sew any dress, heal any boo-boo. It doesn't matter to them that my sewing stitches aren't straight, I over-use my hot glue gun, and buy stock in Band-Aids, to them, I provide what they need. I am demonstrating what they aspire to be, well Elliana at least who tells me daily she wants to be a Mommy when she grows up. I am their mother. And I am grateful beyond words for each and every opportunity laid out before me.