Sometimes I put exclamation points in texts or comments when I'm really not that enthusiastic. I'm sure others do the same. But then that exclamation point stares at me, it starts to mock me... "are you really excited about this? are you sure it wasn't a sad face you wanted to use to end this sentence- are you sure there isn't more you would like to say? you're just going to end this with a false exclamation point?"
I don't care for that exclamation point.
Sometimes I don't like having to go to work every day. When my child hits other children, or throws his food halfway across the restaurant, or lays down in the middle of the store aisle because he doesn't want to sit in the shopping cart, all I want to do is quit my job, move into the mountains for a few months, and spend every day teaching my son how to be a behaved, respectable little boy. Wouldn't it be lovely to wake up in the morning, have a lovely breakfast prepared for Rafe when he gets up, sit with him patiently and teach him how to use his spoon or fork, how to drink from his cup without chucking it at the wall after every sip he takes, go for a nature walk with him around the neighborhood, point out ants and the garbage truck and the little birds he always sees before I even do. Wouldn't it be lovely to place him down for his nap every day, clean around a home of my own, prepare a healthy lunch for little man when he wakes up, spend the afternoon building forts and going to a farmers market to pick up fresh ingredients for dinner, playing at parks and going to gas stations and watching all the fun trucks stopping by. Wouldn't it be lovely to have plenty of time to prepare and sit down for dinner, before Rafe gets cranky and tired, time for a lovely bath and maybe one last wrestle before bed time.
I'm not ignorant. I know that all my amazing, hard working stay-at-home moms are saying, "girl, puh-lease, get your head out the clouds". I know that staying at home with Rafe would not always be sunshine and daisies. I know that every child has the naughty phase, whether or not their mothers work outside the home. I know that my day dream of staying home with Rafe is irrational. Sometimes moms who work in the home dream of a day surrounded by other grown-ups. Sometimes moms who work in an office building dream of a day surrounded by children.
I am blessed to have so much support from my family.
I am blessed to have a wonderful nanny for Rafe. She's like a second mother to him, and we love her to death.
I am blessed to have such a wonderful job where I can work 9-5, have weekends and (recently) holidays off, leave early if needed, and support Rafe and I.
I am blessed to have a Savior who has felt my sorrows, my longings, my loneliness.
