I should mention that it isn't Wednesday at all, but Thursday. I never sleep well when Cody is at work, which usually means I'm up way too late working on invitations or perusing some of my favorite online shops. I happened upon some blogs and found myself comparing...myself...to the myriad of amazing women out there. I marveled at their super cute houses and their way too beautiful children. They bake things from scratch and grow their own produce. They recycle and volunteer and their Tuesday night activities could be published in a Martha Stewart magazine (which brings up another point - how is it that ALL their pictures look so marvy?). But I digress...
In the sea of gorgeous, crafty blogs I sometimes come upon stories about heartbreak and loss and stress and trials and inadequacy... I come upon stories about love and trust and knowing what really matters. Those always touch me. So, what am I loving?
My children. Oh... how I love these little boys. How I love that they are mine. How I love their white-blonde hair and little chins and hysterical laughs. How I love to hear them carry on conversations with one another or sing songs in their beds. I love that they insist on giving me 5 hugs and 13 kisses before I go anywhere. They are my precious boys. I am so blessed to have them, to be their Mother. I am not worthy of them. It's a huge responsibility and it can be so overwhelming at times, can't it? To answer all those questions and feed them good meals and make sure their teeth are brushed. Too often I lose my patience or feel that I'm stretched way too thin or that they are asking way too much of me. I just pray that I can be the kind of Mother they need - one who can be silly with them and let the laundry wait so we can play a game. They are such good boys. So often women will come up to me in Church and tell me that whenever they see my boys they know exactly who they belong to. Is it wrong that I love that? My little carbon copies. They are such a good mix, they look so much like their handsome Father. My sons - I'm so grateful for them. I LOVE them.
My husband. There is a song that goes, "Lucky I'm in love with my best friend, lucky to have been where I have been, lucky to be coming home again...". The love I have for this man runs deeper than anything, straight to my core. It never ceases to amaze me that I have him, what in the world did I do to deserve such a man? I'm a hopeless romantic, this is not new information. I swoon over roses and love songs and twinkly lights and romantic movies. I just eat that up. Little did I know that the most romantic, dreamy thing a man can do for me is make me laugh. Cody makes me laugh every day, sometimes to the point where I'm shaking uncontrollably and tears are streaming down my face. He knows me better than anyone, I can tell him anything, we are different in so many ways and he is my match in every way. He also made me a Mother. He is a craftsman. He's Mr. Incredible. He is gorgeous. He is mine. How lucky am I?
My home. Shallow? Probably. You see, my house is a big project. I have glorious plans for it - those plans are in my head and boy, this place looks gorgeous in there. All shiny and finished. I sometimes voice that owning a home is overrated because lets be honest - owning a house is loads of work that sort of takes you by surprise, am I right? I don't know that I'll ever get used to it. I hope I do. There's lots of weeding and planting and mowing and pruning. Just yesterday Cody and I ripped a big bush out of our yard and pruned back tons of hedges (pruned...de hedges...of many small villages...). Our kitchen is dusty and empty, we still don't have a bed frame or curtains on our front window. So many things need to be done, but I love that we get to do them. I am amazed that we haven't lost our minds in month 5 of our remodel, that I still smirk when I put paper plates and plasticware in my cart at the grocery store. Our house may not look perfect, but it feels perfect and it's ours...so that makes it perfect.
The Gospel. Friends, how scary is this world without it? What a comfort and a rock the Gospel is. I am shown daily that the Savior lives and knows me...knows my joy and my pain and my trials and my triumphs. I would be so lost without it - I depend on it so much. I LOVE this Church, I believe in it with all my heart.
So while our nights are not magazine-worthy and my house is far from super cute, there are so many things that I cherish. My family is healthy, we are happy and we love each other. As far as I'm concerned, that's all we need.
Curious about my original WILW post? At first I was going to post about the fact that I love some alone time - I was able to enjoy a lovely trip to Target without my boys. I can take my time looking at random little things and not have to remind my son to keep his pants on in public. Although once I picked up my kids from my sister-in-law, Cache put a paper bag puppet named 'Trevor Truth' on his hand and proceeded to have a conversation with me on the drive home. Yeah. That's what I love.