Often times I find myself running around the house at lightening speeds, fixing lunches and filling cups, nursing the baby, playing games, chasing a naked little girl who needs clothing, digging splinters out of feet, racing to get children to the potty fast enough, stopping my daughter from trying to pee outside like the boys, administering medicines, and the list could go on and on. Quite frequently I’ll find myself calling my husband at work and telling him that if I’m not here when he gets home, he can find me at the local halfway house. But then, later at night when the house is still and quiet and the kids are looking so sweet and innocent as they dream, I realize just how fortunate I am.
It’s easy to forget how blessed we are in times of chaos and to take things for granted that wouldn’t be possible if we had never received all of the miracles we are given. After a year of marriage, my husband and I decided to start trying to have our first child. Four years later, after countless visits to infertility specialists, a complete drain of our savings account, several invasive and embarrassing procedures, losses that emptied all of our tears, and jealous feelings of everyone around us who had children, we finally had our first child. Looking at things from this perspective really opens my eyes and makes me thankful for every moment, as crazy as that sounds.
So, when I slip in pee & nearly break my back, I remember. When Hayden hides his lunch under the table and tells me that he ate it quickly and I should be proud of him, I remember. And when little Rubye blows out her diaper and covers herself, and me, in poo…
I remember.
