Ordinary beauty

I have a suspicion (or perhaps it's my conscience whispering to me) that some of my friends or family who have heard me vent about how insane my life is now wonder why I don't seem grateful for the fact that we were able to have children after all the struggles we had in order to have children in the first place. Simply put, isn't this what we wanted? Isn't this what we were begging for? Yes, it is but. . .

So, my conscience has been tumbling this question around for quite some time now - about 2 years and 9 months to be exact - and I finally feel that I understand. Essentially, one never knows what it's like to have your own child. Your own. Not someone else's. Not your brother's. Not your friend's. Your own. It's entirely different. If you haven't experienced it yourself, don't pretend you understand because you don't. Trust me. I thought I had an idea but I had no idea. Becoming a parent is a transformation of your entire being and has to be experienced in order to be understood. You can't empathize about this no matter how open-minded you are. If I had to sum up why it's because you can't imagine how much you can love a child and you also can't understand the immense responsibility that comes with raising your own child. Parenting can warm a cold, hard soul or can bring you to your knees begging for mercy. It's a blessing and a beating and it's worth it.

With this new understanding and acceptance, I have begun to open my eyes. The monotony of caring for young children at home can be brutal. Wake up 7:00 a.m. Feed twins. 7:30 oldest wakes up. Feed him. Feed self. Put laundry on. Change diapers, clothes. Prepare lunch. Serve lunch. Clean messy faces, etc., etc. Tedious. It doesn't have to be though. That's the amazing thing. For example, during a grueling diaper marathon (i.e., changing 3 dirty diapers one after the other), I might find myself covered in poo yet one of my babies might give me a smile that just makes me feel so good or my oldest might make me so proud by bringing me a diaper to change his baby brother. It's simple. It's pure. It's sweet and it's fleeting but another moment is always around the corner.

This morning, I sat in the living room and watched the twins playing on the floor. They were laughing and stealing toys back and forth from each other. My oldest was napping in his room. I was sitting on our couch folding the day's laundry and I felt at peace. My babies were fed and happy and I was relaxing as I folded each of my babys' clothes. Little jammies, shirts, shorts. Each little tiny outfit held special meaning to me and I pictured each little rascal in their clothes. I could have just been annoyed by yet another load of laundry but instead I took my time with each article of clothes and carefully folded each one. The sun shown down from the sky light above me and I felt blessed and complete.

There is a beauty to our routine and our life here and I'm thankful that I see it. I remember my Dad once telling me when I was a kid how we can make ourselves learn to enjoy things that we don't like (in this instance, I was grumbling about having to do the dishes). I often remember him telling me that as I did my chores. At the time, I thought that he was just trying to get me to quit griping and do whatever chore needed to be done. Now, though, I understand he did really mean what he was saying. I realize that I have a choice to see beauty in the little things and that that in itself is a gift. I could sit and grumble about how hard my life is - and certainly it definitely has had it's moments - but I'd be missing an opportunity to live fully, experiencing each sacred moment. Although I may still vent from time to time, I do hope to keep this perspective. I feel thankful that my life is rich with both ordinary and extraordinary beauty and I embrace it.