Every once in a while I take Claire and Lucy to the bathroom before I go to bed (when I know they’ve had a bunch to drink before bed). Each time I have to do that dreaded duty (because I am SO darn tired by the time I finally head up to bed at night) I start out grumpy. But I remind myself it’s better than the alternative: getting up to change sheets in the middle of the night.
I pick up Lucy first, who’s getting so heavy to lug to the toilet. But something about her softness as she drapes over my shoulder like a giant rag doll digs into my heart and makes me love her even more than ever. Then I go to Claire. She is far from snuggly, her bones angled out as she straightens her body out like a board and looks at me in tired confusion. When I tuck her back in bed her hug lingers after I lay her down…squeezes me tight and then releases me to return gently back into dreamland.
I love things that remind me, even on the not-so-fun tasks, how blessed I am to get to be a Mother: one who does the mundane tasks but who gets rewarded far beyond them.