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Monday, December 17, 2012


It's been one of those days. Nothing tragic, just you know. A bad mommy day.

 I've had to change three times, twice for baby food being flung at me and once for being thrown up on. 

I've felt particularly frumpy and insecure about my post baby body after listening to some pretty tactless remarks about having children and what it does to womens' bodies. 

I've battled for naps and one more bites and cleaned the kitchen with a small child trying to bite my ankles the whole time. Really. 

It's one of those days that I doubt whether or not I'm cut out for this stay at home mom world. I doubt whether or not I'm selfless enough to be a good mom because I'm not enjoying every single minute. Today I'm not enjoying any of it really. 

Then as I lay in the floor (because I'm that tired) and play with him, waiting for the blessed hour when daddy gets home, he looks over and giggles at me and I remember.

I remember how badly we wanted this precious boy and how much we prayed for him. 

I remember how sometimes at night when he snuggles with me at bedtime, I weep because I love him that much. 

I remember that this is the hardest and absolutely most joyous experience I've ever had. 

I remember that this is also the most sanctifying process. As I pour into my son there's hopefully less of me, more of Christ.

 I remember there is no where else I want to be but here because I don't want to miss a single second of the spit ups, the bumped heads, the nap battles, the feeding struggles, the hugs, the milestones, the kisses, the snuggles. And even on days when it's hard and monotonous and overwhelming, God blesses me with little glimpses of the wonderfulness of being a mom. I wouldn't trade a single stretch mark or baby food stain. 

This is definitely the best thing I've ever done.

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