I Want to Remember This

Someday, when my girls are older and in school or are grown and living on their own, I want to remember this. I want to remember being so tired from waking up with Heidi six times in one night, five times the next, and so on. I want to remember the tiny call from Ansley in the middle of the night, saying, "Paci, Mommy. Paci, Mommy. Paci, Mommy. Paci, Mommy. Paci, Mommy...." until I finally get up to find it for her. I want to remember Heidi crawling after me everywhere I go in the house. Remember hearing Ansley tell me she needs to go potty in the middle of our shopping trip with a basket full of groceries. Remember the trip to the doctor's office today when I was convinced Heidi has been crying and not sleeping because of some terrible ear infection and hearing the doctor tell me that her ears and everything else look perfect. And then walking to the front door of the doctor's office to leave and seeing that it's pouring rain. Having a complete stranger (who worked at the clinic) walk up to me and ask if I would like for her to take my children around to the covered area while I got my truck and taking her up on it, but wondering if this decision made me a terrible mom. Feeling like I have nothing under control and that I'm sinking. Feeling like I'm going to burst into tears if I hear Ansley yell at Heidi one more time, or hear Heidi wake up way too early from a nap, or if Ansley has another accident. Feeling like I never want to leave my house again. Wondering when I'm going to have time to take a shower.

Yep, it's been one of those days. Or few days.

But, I know that this time is flying by and that soon my girls won't need me for these things. Instead, they'll need advice on boys, clothes, makeup, homework, and college. And who knows where I will be. Maybe I'll be working, or maybe not. Right now I just can't imagine doing anything other than what I'm doing and it's such a wonderful feeling to know that the Lord is right here with me and is giving me the strength I need to be the mommy these girls need. How encouraging it is to remember that He chose me for them. He knows I can do it, even when I don't. And, when I wonder if I'm doing anything right and am discouraged because my tireless work isn't as apparently fruitful as I think it should be, Ansley walks up, wraps her arms around me, and says, "I love you, Mommy. You're my sweet girl."

By the way, I'm crying as I write this. I'm a wreck. And, I love it.