In the Still of the Night

Being a mom is hard some days.  There are up-every-hour nights, early morning wake up calls, dentist appointments full of tears and screaming, time outs, piles of dirty dishes, piles of laundry, piles of toys, and a great deal more that can make you want to hide in the closet and indulge in the closest piece of chocolate you can find.

I would dare say that every single day I think to myself "Wow, I hope I can do better tomorrow."  Thankfully, I get  that very chance with the rising of the sun each morning.  But still, I find myself making the same mistakes, losing patience because of the same things, and forgetting to enjoy the moments as they happen.  I constantly remind myself that these moments won't last.  That tomorrow they will be a little closer to not wanting to share every detail of their lives or hold my hand as we climb the stairs.  But I am still missing too much.  I am there, I am participating; but my mind is somewhere else and it seems I am simply going through the motions.

But sometimes the fog lifts.  Sometimes my mind clears and I feel myself taking it all in, even when  it is one in the morning and I pulled myself out of bed, less than pleased to be awake. Her room is dark, with only a sliver of light escaping the hallway and outlining the objects within.  But I see her- the length of the eyelashes, the curl of her hair- and it all becomes etched in my heart with a prayer that it will stay there forever.  The night is quiet and it is just me, my babies, and that feeling we as mothers are ever searching for.  The feeling that yes, this is what I was made to do and I love it.  I love every part of it and I am so grateful it is me doing those things that seemed so hard earlier in the day.