I Really Lived

A friend gave me this quote a couple of months ago and tonight it helped put all today's tragic mom moments into perspective. So here is one for all the moms who feel like that didn't do anything important today!

I Really Lived
by Marjorie Hinckley

"I don't want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifully tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long perfectly manicured fingernails.

I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp. I want to be there with grass stains on my shoes from mowing Sister Schenk's lawn. I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbor's children. I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone's garden. I want to be there with children's sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder.

I want the Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived."

Tonight when my husband got home from work and asked me how my day was, I answered, "Ah, you know, the usual. Nothing real spectacular." For some reason, the answer I gave didn't sit right with me. Really? Nothing spectacular? And then I started thinking about it...really thinking about my job as a mom.

This is the hardest job I have ever had. I've had some challenging jobs in some challenging places but nothing like this. I'm learning how to do a million things and learning so much about myself that no university or advanced degree could ever give me. Today my children were fed, clothed, played with, loved, cuddled, kissed, tickled, taught and put to bed in a place where they knew they were safe and protected. Today my children learned new things and laughed out loud. Today Jacob held his little baby sister in his arms and announced that he was big enough now to protect her. Today Matthew told me a million "Knock, knock" jokes with the same punchline and he was so cute and sincere that I laughed out loud at every single one. Today Hannah grabbed my face and sucked on my cheek and I couldn't put her down because I loved her so much. Today I not only took care physically of a household full of people but I tried my hardest to take care of them emotionally and spiritually and intellectually. Do we ever stop to think as mothers about every single individual child in this big world that did not have you or anyone like you to do all those things for them today? I can't tell you what it does to me when I think about children being cold or hungry or alone. I hate all the children I've met who never had a childhood. I hate that I know way too many children who don't go to bed feeling safe or protected and don't know any other emotions besides fear or hate or emptiness. I hate that there are kids roaming streets and being taken advantage of in ways we can't even fathom. I don't like that I have names and faces behind so many of these tragedies. I didn't have an uneventful day where I didn't do anything. Today I changed the world for 3 small people who I hope will go out one day and change the world for lots more people. It makes every moment seem so critical and important and every event filled with meaning. And I hope that I don't ever lose a place in my heart or mind or emotions for every child out there that didn't have anyone who cared today.

Your day was pretty important.

Upper Lips and Chin Hair

This week I ended what I had termed "the year of the hair" and finally went and cut it off. I had lasted six months without a major cut until I woke up and discovered that not only do I hate having long hair but it really didn't do anything for my physical appearance. I decided to go to a new salon since I had made my regular hair-cutting person sign a solemn oath at the beginning of the year that no matter how much I begged and pleaded and reasoned with her, she wouldn't cut my hair. Off to the beauty salon...I was intoxicated by the sophistication of the place, the serenity of not having a single kid with me and the aroma of expensive shampoos. I decided to really go for the gold and do something crazy...I'd get my eyebrows waxed.

The lady led me through the salon and down a mysterious hallway, in through the secret glass doors, and into a room with a table contraption. I carefully scaled the table and laid down. She clucked, clucked, clucked in horror and dismay as she tried to tame my mangled brows down enough to get the wax on. While applying the wax, she casually asked, "So, are we going to do this upper lip today sweetie?" What? My upper lip? What was there? I was horrified. I replied, "Uh, yeah." And as she was sweet talking and putting that hot, hot stuff where no hot stuff had ever been she threw in, "Here, I'll just grab this chin hair while we're at it" and kept on waxing. I lay on the table and tried to take in what had just happened. This was just moments before she ripped off all the hair and skin on my face. I stumbled out of the room feeling naked and terribly violated. (I felt like that sheep on the bonus feature "Boundin'" from The Incredibles DVD) I looked in the mirror at the receptionist's desk and found 3 enormous red swollen patches on my face. It was hairless but it wasn't pretty.

Now, I need to ask in an honest, non-face to face kind of manner...was the hair so appalling? Were people being distracted by lip hair careening in the wind? Or chin hairs hanging from the bottom of my face? Who can I count on to bring these things to my attention? I have spent the last few days trying to figure if the red, swollen bumps now were better than the blond hairs before?

I've decided to go back to my regular hair cutting person and renegotiate the terms of the contract. Apparently the "year of the hair" was more than I had expected.