All consuming

My life is consumed by so many little details lately....things that make me feel truly "mom-ish."

Like the fact that my hair looks like shit.

I'm not saying that moms have to look terrible...but now, I do realize how moms can get so disheveled looking. I was trying to think of my last cut & color. I can't. If I didn't write it on the calendar, I can't even look it up. I just know that my hair used to be cute and easy to manage, and all of a sudden it's sort of shaped like a mushroom and my roots are showing hardcore.

Another thing is that my house is in constant disarray.

I digress. I've never been one to be so fabulous at managing at house. However, now I yearn to keep a nice house...but I just don't have the energy or hours in the day. I now KNOW for a fact that my mom was and still is SuperMom...because she truly does it all. I'm still in training. I'm not that good yet. Not even close. No matter if I vacuumed 2 seconds ago, there is already dog hair on the floor. No matter if I just wiped up water on the floor, it's there again because my son likes to play in the dog's water bowl. No matter if I pick up all the toys and put them neatly in the basket. Asher loves to play and discover and pulling the toys out of the basket and taking out all of the books is more fun than neat and tidy.

I ran into a friends' mom the other day at Sam's Club on a diaper run (which ended $96 later with more than diapers in my cart). She said, "You know...if I had to do it again, I'd spend less time cleaning & more time playing!" Amen. Amen.

My life is consumed now by things that feel quite normal, but just a few years ago were totally foreign. The turmoil of having to leave work to take your baby to the doctor for yet ANOTHER ear infection. The stress of having to finally have tubes surgically put into your baby's ears after months of those ear infections. The pure joy you feel in the morning when you hear him wake up and begin talking. The heart-leap when he gets excited every morning to see you and the way he smells like fruit when he first wakes up. The way he says "Mama...mama...." and he means me. The feel of his breath against my neck and the weight of his little body on my chest as we rock before bedtime. The smell of his shampoo lingering in the bath...The way that my refrigerator is begin taken over by fingerpaintings and letter magnets...

There's no place else I'd rather be.