...but first I'll be a Mother

Some houses try to hide the fact that children shelter there.

We boast of it quite openly, for signs are everywhere.

Smears are on the windows, little smudges on the doors--

I should apologize, I guess, for toys strewn on the floor.

But I sat down with my children and we played and laughed and read,

And if the doorbell doesn't shine, their eyes will shine instead.

For at times I'm forced to choose the one job or the other--

I want to be a housewife, but first I'll be a Mother.

***

My parents had this poem hanging on their wall when I was growing up, and it obviously meant enough to me that I still have it memorized all these years later. It popped into my head today as I looked around the cheerio-crusted, car-cluttered, book-covered carpet in our unfurnished living room and was quietly reminded that cleaning the mess was less important than my time spent loving and nurturing my boys. I love those quiet, peaceful moments amidst the chaos of everyday life when my Heavenly Father helps me see my own potential as a Mother, when He whispers, "You're doing good, now let me help you do even better." I don't take this job lightly, you know, being a Mom. I am constantly analyzing my actions, thinking of how I can improve and wondering what more can be done. This summer especially, as James has been working around the clock and Talmage has been having a hard time being away from home, I have found myself seeking heavenly guidance on what He thinks I should do. And this afternoon, remembering that poem, was Heavenly Father's way of telling me to focus on the most basic, simple, beautiful parts of motherhood--loving and nurturing His children. There are a lot of things I could be doing in my life right now outside of the home, and there are a lot of things I can fill my days with right now inside the home, so I'm always grateful for the subtle reminders of what matters most.

Santa Monica Beach. July 12.