Why My Work Is The Best Work In The World

Last night, I remembered exactly why I do what I do. 

I remembered why I spend every day cleaning up the same messes, over and over again, even though I know in just a matter of hours, even minutes, those same messes will need to be re-cleaned. 

I remembered why I spend less time and energy on myself, even if there are days when I'd much rather do my hair and makeup and look presentable. 

I remembered why I fill my hours with laundry, and diapers, cooking, and answering a million questions. Over and over ... and over again. Without fail. Every day. 

And I remembered why I wake up in the middle of the night, at a single whimper or fuss. Head to my child's room, and do whatever it takes to help them get back to sleep. Regardless if that means I only get a couple decent hours of rest myself, and bags take up residence just south of my eyes. 

You see -- L? Well, apparently he's cutting molars. He's never been one of those mystical from-the-fairytale kinds of teethers that never seem to be bothered by it. He's the I'm-Miserable-And-Everyone-is-going-to-know-about-it kind of teether. 

He spent most of the evening fussing, telling us all "Hurt .... HURT!" but being too young to really express where he hurt or what was bothering him, we were left to the process of elimination. After a few clues, and a ton of finger gnaws, we hypothesized it was his teeth. 

And many times, in the middle of the night, he woke up. A few times cold. Once covered in sweat. Another time covered in pee -- because that little boy of mine can't seem to sleep without his hands finding their way into the top band of his diaper. 

I changed him when he needed to be. Stripped the sheets from his bed. Covered him with a blanket, if that's all it took. And every time, I picked him up. I hugged him, like only a mother can, feeling the tension release from his shoulders, from his sweet body, as he recognized the scent of who had come to rescue him. 

And as I sat down in that corner rocking chair, holding that sweet little boy in my arms, and whispered to him that it would be okay, because he Mama was here, I felt him just melt into me. His little sigh. A yawn. The relaxing of his whole body. He snuggled in close for some more of Mama's love. 

And in that moment ... that one single moment, alone ... I remembered why I became a Mom in the first place.

And why nothing in this world will ever compare to what I get to do on a daily basis.