I believe I was always meant to be a homemaker. Something in my soul just loves it. I love cleaning and making beautiful meals and taking care of my babies. Yesterday was Saturday and I spent the day cleaning and listening to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir while my babies played on the floor. (I was in the mood to listen to something uplifting. I often am in the mood to listen to something that makes me want to dance but today I was feeling a little reflective.) I was going to take them upstairs and help them clean the upstairs after I was done downstairs but by the time I got the downstairs done, there was grocery shopping, and baths, and dinner, and bedtime. If I could have a week off of being a mom I would spend it organizing, cleaning and touching up my home. (Have I mentioned that I love my home.) I don't have a week off. As much as I love being a homemaker, I hate how my efforts are undone in seconds, but that is another battle I am working on.
My friend once said that you can tell if you are a good mother if your kids are always underfoot. They want to be near you. Yesterday it warmed my heart and made me laugh that my children would rather sit on the cold, hard, partially wet floor than on the carpet because it was where I was. I told them they were making it difficult to mop so they repositioned themselves on the edge of the kitchen floor. They could have gone upstairs to a room full of toys. What is a room full of toys compared with a mother?
No comments:
Post a Comment