18 April 2012

Four Pieces Of Pie

It's days like these I feel particularly fortunate to be a mother.  We woke up early to have breakfast with Jack before he left for work, sewed a dress for Claire to match Evie's, baked homemade dog treats, played together at the park and took a bath while listening to a queue of favorite songs.  The girls giggled for a good half an hour before napping for a solid two hours allowing me to type some reminiscent stories in our farm memoir, watch a show, feeling refreshed after the catnap that followed.  Now in their pajamas and smelling of sweet baby lotion, they're playing together.   My entire day--and every day--is filled with concern and care for them.

Though there are some who scorn mothers who sacrifice careers for youngsters, I don't wonder if I did the right thing deciding to stay at home.  Even the worst days, stressed because my children are unknowingly prodding the devil on my shoulder, I still would rather be gritting my teeth and learning patience than earning money to pay someone else to raise them while I was away.  It is difficult but I don't doubt that it's worth it.

To put it in the metaphoric words of Tenneva Jordan, "A mother is a person who, seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie."
 Really, I don't like pie that much.


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