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.