Where My Dream Is Hiding

I always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. Ask anyone who knew me in high school or college. The plan was to get my degrees, get married, teach for a few years, then start popping out babies and stay home with them. And it happened just like that.

Except in my head, there were a lot less dirty dishes and mundane tasks to get done and a lot more afternoon teas with other stay at home moms while our kids played contentedly amongst themselves, wearing adorable outfits from the baby Gap.

In real life, I need at least 3 days notice before I invite someone into my house because it is almost always a MESS.

In real life, I leave dirty dishes in the sink for a day or two (or three or until I can’t take the smell anymore…)

In real life, I take full advantage of the free clothing exchange at our church.

It’s easy to get caught up in thinking the mundane stuff is boring, and often disgusting, in the moment.

My life is not glamorous in the least. It involves a lot of bodily fluid. Most of it’s not mine.

This morning I woke up to two poopy diapers, one of which leaked through pajamas onto the crib sheets.

I started the day with poop, laundry, and dishes.

I scrubbed the sink with baking soda and lemon juice. (‘cuz, the smell, remember?)

I actually washed the washing machine. (‘cuz, um, there was just lots of poop leakage in there)

I had to pee in a cup and put it in our refrigerator (OB appointment later)

But…

I also got to feed my kids homemade banana bread for breakfast because I had time to bake yesterday.

There is a bowl full of homegrown tomatoes sitting on my dining room table because I have time to garden.

While the poopy sheets were in the wash, I had time to play a Clifford the Big Red Dog phonics computer game with my kids, schedule a play date for tomorrow, and invite friends for dinner on Friday.

I ordered the groceries online and I can pick them up in a few hours.

I can wear sweatpants all day if I want to.

I can do whatever I want to, actually, because I’m the one making the choices with these kids all day. Everyday. While Eddie is working to support us.

Sometimes that can start to feel backwards when we are at home all day like we are the ones doing grunt work for no glory, nothing but a support to hold up everyone else while they flourish in their careers, school, activities, etc. That is not what is happening. It’s not glamorous. Sometimes it’s not even fun, but it is the single most important job on Earth, motherhood, and it was always my dream.

Sometimes the dream looks like this.

That part usually involves a hair appointment, a studio, special lighting, a professional photographer, and a dozen squeaking toys providing distraction in the background.

90% of the time it looks like this:

That part involves toys on the living room floor, watching too much tv, milk being drooled out of sippy cups, and the option not to wear pants.

It took a while, but I’ve gotten to the point where I’m ok with that.

More than ok.

In love with this face:

and this one

and this one

and this one

And they love me back. For who I am. Because I also have an identity beyond making babies and scrubbing poop out of bed sheets.

Which is what never knew I always wanted.