Sometimes, I feel like I’m cleaning up one thing or another – every waking moment of every day.  There is always something to wipe, to pick up, to wash, to stack, to shelve, to wipe again, and again, and again…

I can’t help but wonder, “Is this what I traded my career for? To pick up everyone else’s mess? What did I get a degree for in the first place?”

And I get grumpy, irritated, and snappy.

And I yell.

And I become the mom I don’t want to be.

“Somebody should have warned me about all the mess I’ll be cleaning up once I have kids,” I defend myself in my thoughts.  But really, isn’t this still being selfish of me?

MOTHER:  Synonyms: Sacrifice. Happiness. Love.

Even though I become surrounded by all the must-do’s, I must remember to look past the mess.

Because beyond the dirt, the pile of toys, the (million) pieces of paper, and the paint, there’s a child.

MY child…

• who’s experiencing the world, though it might have dirt on it…
• who’s imagination is growing with each toy played with…
• who’s fine motor skills are being fine-tuned with every cut the scissors make…
• who’s happiness grows with each stroke of the paint brush…

Look past the awful mess, because it means you can see the beautiful child who made it.