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I love that I get to stay home with my kids. I love that I’m the one who gets to sit with them at breakfast and at lunch and at dinner. I love that I am the one who gets to hear them say funny things to each other when they don’t know I’m listening, who gets to kiss their ouchies and snuggle them when they’re barely hurt. Every day I am thankful that I get to be the one around them, the one simply in their presence.
But sometimes I start to feel guilty, as if I should be doing more to pull my weight in the family. This is a guilt brought totally on by me, never breathed or imagined by my husband, because at home and loving on our kids is the only place Hubby wants me. Yet when Hubby works ten-hour days plus weekends while the kids and I have spent our days lazing around the house or with friends, I wonder if I should do more. It’s a silly thought, one I would laugh at my friends for having, but nevertheless sometimes it is there.
Wednesday was one of those lazy days. After preschool and after lunch, when the laundry was mostly finished and the house was relatively clean, I sat in the living room and watched G play his Spiderman video game while Little Missy sat on the floor next to me and played with her dollies. That silly question popped into the back of my brain, that “Couldn’t you be doing something extra? Like an at-home business or something? Anything?”
Then Little Missy discovered a temporary tattoo given to her by one of her friends at preschool and we immediately headed to the kitchen to apply it. As I sat on the floor with her in front of me, holding a wet paper towel on her arm as we counted to thirty, I watched her sweet little face nod each number as her mouth with her two missing teeth formed the numbers with a lisp, and I knew that this was important. A moment she’ll never need to remember because nothing exciting was learned, but I’m thankful that I’m the one experiencing the little moments with my daughter.
I love that I get to stay home with my kids. I love that I’m the one who gets to sit with them at breakfast and at lunch and at dinner. I love that I am the one who gets to hear them say funny things to each other when they don’t know I’m listening, who gets to kiss their ouchies and snuggle them when they’re barely hurt. Every day I am thankful that I get to be the one around them, the one simply in their presence.
But sometimes I start to feel guilty, as if I should be doing more to pull my weight in the family. This is a guilt brought totally on by me, never breathed or imagined by my husband, because at home and loving on our kids is the only place Hubby wants me. Yet when Hubby works ten-hour days plus weekends while the kids and I have spent our days lazing around the house or with friends, I wonder if I should do more. It’s a silly thought, one I would laugh at my friends for having, but nevertheless sometimes it is there.
Wednesday was one of those lazy days. After preschool and after lunch, when the laundry was mostly finished and the house was relatively clean, I sat in the living room and watched G play his Spiderman video game while Little Missy sat on the floor next to me and played with her dollies. That silly question popped into the back of my brain, that “Couldn’t you be doing something extra? Like an at-home business or something? Anything?”
Then Little Missy discovered a temporary tattoo given to her by one of her friends at preschool and we immediately headed to the kitchen to apply it. As I sat on the floor with her in front of me, holding a wet paper towel on her arm as we counted to thirty, I watched her sweet little face nod each number as her mouth with her two missing teeth formed the numbers with a lisp, and I knew that this was important. A moment she’ll never need to remember because nothing exciting was learned, but I’m thankful that I’m the one experiencing the little moments with my daughter.
