In the morning, I usually wake up to hugs and “Good morning, Mommy — how was your sleep?” from a groggy eyed Benjamin, or to cooing and a snuggle from Liam.  As the day goes on, I feed my boys, I change diapers, I enforce nap time.  I build roads from blocks for cars to drive on and I play ball in my living room.  I try to juggle playing, being in charge, taking care of errands and trying to keep the house at least a little clean (Benjamin helps — really).  I run races, put puzzles together, play games on the computer, answer lots of questions, share ice cream and wash sticky faces and fingers.  I try to get my kids out so that we can see some of this fantastic city (because I know that all too soon this opportunity will have passed).  I give baths, I cuddle, I read stories.  The other day, I filled a wading pool using a 32 ounce plastic cup and countless trips back and forth from my kitchen to the terrace.  Tonight, Benjamin fell asleep during story time — I looked over, halfway through our second book, and he was out.

This is the best job ever.

It is hard, the hours are endless, I am often exhausted and sometimes pushed past the limits of my strength (mental, physical and emotional), there are no sick days and a break is really hard to come by.  But this is exactly the job I want to have.  I am so grateful that I get to spend this time with my wonderful kids.  I complain about it sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.  If I had millions of dollars in the bank, this is exactly what I’d do (although I’d hire someone to make sure the house stays clean).  What a great feeling:  I get to wake up every morning and do exactly what I would do if money were no object.  I love it.