Empathy

I seriously have some of the best children. Ever. Seriously. Look at them! They are pretty cute. And, mostly well behaved. They are generally good sleepers. They aren't particularly sickly. They are usually good eaters (even if almost every meal starts with "I don't want that" they usually forget their protests and eat what is in front of them).

I also enjoy being a mother. When I am not being poked, prodded, begged, "accompanied", sat/climbed on, whined at, covered in some unsavory bodily fluid, or reffing a fight that is. I enjoy reading to them. I enjoy watching them learn (often times through no effort of my own). I enjoy cuddling (with those who like to be cuddled). I enjoy watching them play together. I enjoy watching them grow (even though I don't *really* enjoy that part). I enjoy dressing them up, and dressing them down. I enjoy watching them impress others, or hear other talk about how decent they are :)

But, lets face the reality here: Being a home maker, currently unemployed and not looking for work, a stay at home mom, is a hard job. And I do mean difficult in every sense of the word. There are days that it is physically hard: when I have a 25 lb bowling ball, er, I mean, son, who is fussy and wants me to hold him. All. Day. Long. There are some days when it is stressful: when children are sick or tired, and whiny and fighting all day long. There are days when it is emotionally hard: especially during those "growing experiences" (and believe me, I know... it will only get worse from here). There are days when it is mentally taxing: trying to get everything fit into the schedule, while making time for everything, and forgetting nothing. I know there are harder jobs. I know there are people who stand on their feet all day long in a factory somewhere lifting 80 lb bags of something 100 times per hour. Or jobs that are so stressful people develop ulcers and take Zantac for the rest of their lives. Or jobs that require math so far above my head, I start to wonder if someone fell asleep on a foreign keyboard because of all the strange numbers, letters, and symbols involved.

I am not saying my job is worse. In fact, it is probably better, because along with the bad, I get the good. I get the cuddles along with the sick child. I get the frustration of the teaching as well as the satisfaction of the learning. I get the headache of the planning as well as the fun of the watching/participating. But, every once in a while, it is nice to be noticed. Nice to be appreciated. I'm not talking about Mother's day, with flowers, and breakfast in bed (although that is nice :). I mean, just little comments. The "You know, you have a ton of patience to be able to deal with this kinda stuff day in and day out" that my husband recently said. Or the "Mothers of small children have to be so well organized" that a male friend at church recently said. Or the "Your children are so well behaved. They must be loved" from the random stranger at the store. Or the "Where is the me time when you are watching kids?" comment from another male friend who had babysat several small children over the weekend. Or the "Although I sometimes wish I could stay home with the kids, I will admit that it may not be all fluff and chocolates" comment from my hubby. You know, those kinds of things. They are nice to hear. Every once in a while. It almost makes you think they understand what you are going through. :)