Motherhood

We decided to do a little painting at our house today.  I would generally save an activity like this for Noah's naptime, but I had a lapse in judgement this morning.  I feel like there isn't much that I can do with super-mobile Noah around these days.  It requires constant vigilance when we're outside to make sure he's not running into the road.  When he's in the tub, he's often slipping under the water.  At the library he's pulling volumes of books off the shelves.  At home he's removing the air vents and tossing Hot Wheels cars into the black hole or climbing the bunk bed ladder to see if he can touch the ceiling.  It's always something, and paint is pretty innocent, even when it gets all over.

Things started out rocky when I put Noah in front of some paint and he immediately started sucking on his paint-covered brush like it was a popsicle.  I put him in his high chair and let the bigger kids paint, and as soon as I let him down again he got right back to business.

And it wasn't pretty.

But the mess was already made, and his smile was so big that I just went with it- he needed a bath anyway.  

I'm not always so jovial about messes.  Sometimes they send me through the roof.  In fact, just a few months after we moved into this house, Leah and Adam disappeared to the basement one afternoon and came up proudly bearing masterpieces that they had painted with acrylic paint on the basement floor.  I was barely post-partum with Noah, stressed out, exhausted, and cooking dinner, and the thought of one more mess to clean up sent me over the edge.  When Jason walked in from work I was still fuming.  He offered to take the kids and play with them and I shouted, "I don't want you to play with them!  I want you to spank them!  All of them!"  He didn't, but it still wasn't a pretty moment.  But those are the moments that no one really tells you about before you dive into the thick of motherhood yourself.  

I got a got glimpse of motherhood while I was still single.  When I was in my last semester of college at BYU, I worked for the university financial services department.  I had a fairly light load of classes, and I was planning our wedding, but I also decided I had a bit of room in my schedule for another job to help us earn some money.  We were plenty poor and could use all of the extra dollars we could get.  I've written about this mother's helper job before.  It was without a doubt the best glimpse I've had into motherhood (the job I've wanted more than any other job in my life).  Some days were easy, but most days were a longer list of tasks to be done than I had time to do them- unload the dishwasher, load up the breakfast dishes, put breakfast food away, prepare morning snacks.  Vacuum the family room (after cleaning up all of the Legos), vacuum the basement (after putting away all of the dress ups and toy food), head upstairs, start a load of laundry, fold a load of laundry, get the baby up from her nap, empty the baby's diaper pail, head up to the bedrooms, put all of the books back on the bookshelves, clean out from under the kids beds (I had no idea at that time how many masterpieces four little kids could create in a week), put away the kids clean clothes... it was truly a never-ending to-do list.  And I loved it.  The time went by quickly, I was paid reasonably well, and the kids were cute.  As the weeks went by the mom wanted me to spend more times with the kids and started leaving me with them in the house while she went out to run errands (oh, how I understand what a dream that would be now!).  So, in addition to all of the housekeeping work I was doing, I was now entertaining the kids.  Only now I didn't find the job to be quite as satisfactory.  The kids were always hungry, always bored, always undoing a job I had just done, always wanting to play while I was trying to get my other to-do's done.  There was too much to do and never enough time to do it.  I only stayed at their house for two or three hours at a time, but I was often relieved when the mom came home and sent me on my way with a crisp check for $100 or so dollars in my pocket, my weekly earnings for a daily glimpse of the work of motherhood.

On the days that the mom specifically asked me to focus on the kids, rather than the house, we would go for walks around the neighborhood to see the horses or the spring blossoms.  One day we played in the backyard- the sidewalk chalk and swings didn't hold their interest nearly as long as I would have liked, and before long we pulled out the hose and they excitedly changed into their swimsuits.  They were soon muddy and grassy and wet and needed to be cleaned up.  So we headed up to their bathroom to clean up.  I remember seeing the crusty toothpaste in the sink and vowing to myself that my family's bathroom would never have crusty toothpaste plastered in the sink.  Ha!  That stuff must creep out at night and paint itself all over the sink, mirror, vanity, and door in my house now.  I just don't get it.  So the kids were playing happily in the bathtub (still in their suits) and piling more and more bath toys into the tub with them and, the second I turned around, they pulled all of the beach and bath towels they could get their hands on into the tub with them.  It was a HUGE towely, wet, grassy, muddy mess.  I didn't know where to start cleaning up, so I plucked the kids out of the tub, drained the water, and snapped the shower curtain shut.  And I left the mess behind.  I got the kids re-dressed and left for the day, not a word of mention of it to the mom.  I still feel bad about that.  But I remember thinking, "I'm not the mom.  I'll do my best for my few hours, but at the end of the day- it's too big of a job, and I'm glad it's not my job."

But now I am the mom, and it IS my job.  Today I asked Emma if she would be willing to give painted Noah a bath and she said, "No!  I'm not the mom.  You have do it- you're the mom!"

And I do have to do it.  Wash the clothes, clean the bathrooms, wipe the fingerprints off the doors and windows.  Assign the chores, teach them how to do the chores they've been assigned, help them realize the consequences of their choices.  Craft with them, read to them, write for them.  Shop for the groceries, stretch the food budget, make the meals.  Vacuum the floors, rotate the wardrobes, buy bigger shoes.  Return the library books on time, enroll them in gymnastics and t-ball.  Drive them to violin lessons.  Make sure they practice the piano and violin.  Educate and entertain them.  Keep them safe.  This is a huge one, the one that keeps me up at night.  Listen to their heart's complaint.  Laugh at their jokes, break up their squabbles, teach them to be responsible and respectful.  Make the holidays magical, create the memories, provide the avenues for the fun to happen.  Teach them about the gospel of Jesus Christ and help their testimonies grow.  Always, always, always show them love.  It is NOT a small job, and it never ends.  Even when I get breaks, I'm always the mom, and I always go back to work.

I love this Mother's Day video- an interview for the position of motherhood.  The job description includes being "constantly on your feet, constantly bending over, constantly exerting yourself, a high level of stamina...  No, there are no breaks available.  You can have lunch, but only when the associate is done eating their lunch.  You must be able to wear several hats... the associate is in need of constant attention.  You need to be able to work in a chaotic environment.  If you had a former life, we'd ask you to give that life up.  There are no vacations- holidays- on Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Year's- the workload is going to go up, and we demand that- with a happy disposition."

It cracks me up and brings tears to my eyes every time I see it.  It is a great description of motherhood.  And the thing is, I love it.  I love my job.  I don't love every minute of every day, but I am a happy woman because I am a mother.

Even when my work looks like this- 

there is no job I'd rather do.