Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Ya' got that right.

 {love these pics of ellie jane and auntie sissa....}

Last night I completed my weekly laundry marathon (thank you so much, bachelorette...two hours of legit entertainment while i fold). It took hours. It was midnight when I finished putting the last items in the girls' closets. I hung t-shirts and sorted socks amidst the backdrop of their heavy breath, bellies rising and falling in steady rhythm. And London's snorts. Always. The girl is a like a fire breathing dragon in slumber.

I took a step back and ran my fingers down the long line of clothing, smelling fresh and ready for another week of abuse and utter destruction. I admired a dress in particular that had withstood the test of time (thanks to quality fabric and ample amounts of Oxiclean), all the way back to when Lily was a baby. Now, it sits waiting for Emerson.

And I...

started crying.

Pretty heavy crying. The scene was all very emotionally stable and oh so normal....me, at midnight...crying over laundry. The tears fell freely as I continued to silently sniff my way through stacked sandals and swimming suits and all the items we had pummeled over the weekend.

Gosh, I love this, I thought.
I love these clothes. 
I love these little girls who I dress everyday.
Every. stinking. day.
And it's going so fast. Too fast.

A few weeks ago I was paid the highest compliment I've received to date from a stranger. We were in the back aisles of Walmart. I was engrossed in my effort to get. in. and. out. as. quickly. as. possible. An elderly women from a short distance sweetly spoke out to me with a smile,

"I can tell you really love being a mother."

I made eye contact with her, turned and looked behind me to double check, thinking...wait a minute, you talkin' to me? Did she just hear the conversation with my begging children over the chocolate milk?
Ladies, I'm not paying five dollars for a lousy half gallon of True Moo....we're going straight up and dirty...get the stuff with corn syrup, it's only two bucks.

I smiled sheepishly and responded, "Well thank you. I do! Most days!"

Later, as I drove away I couldn't help but smile in an air of satisfaction. Yes, yes...I must be doing something right! And if she saw it, maybe my girls will see it too.
I want them to know it, always:
Their Momma really loves being their Momma.


Joan said...

I know the feeling well.
Even on the crazy days when I have had it I often stop and think, "As much as these little hellions are driving me mad...I know I will miss this one day." It's usually after I've slammed my door, locked it and devoured an entire kind sized candy bar...but nonetheless, the thought eventually enters my mind at some point.

The Mrs. said...

That is sweet Rae.

Love you!