Taking a Sick Day

(The girls playing when they should be cleaning... as always)

I'm home playing Mom today with a sick Macie who has the stomach flu.

She's been trying to convince me, at all angles, that she can and should eat food this morning.

She's like a persistent used car salesman in a 4 year old body that drives a hard bargain- a trait inherited by her father, I'm sure.

So I'm home and I do believe I'm feeling a bit off today...

and yesterday...

and last week...

and perhaps this whole month.

Just a bunch of lame series of events all rolling its way into my February.

It's unfortunate,

just when I'm about to throw myself a really great pity party (and I do mean GREAT)

I remind myself that no matter how hard I think my life is, someone always has it worse than me.

Not that it makes my trials and my worries any less important,

but it just gives me perspective-

that really, life's not so bad.

Last night, while I was doing the dishes, Abrie sat across from me carefully studying my every move,

when out of no where this little question chirped from her mouth, "Mom, is it hard being a MOM?"

I gave her an honest, unfiltered (well, maybe a little filtered) answer, "Yes, Abrie. Yes. It. Is."

Then I began to explain in 8 year old terms

that even though it's hard sometimes, it doesn't mean that I don't enjoy it.

In fact, it's quite the opposite... I love it!

Being a Mom is one of the best things a woman can be.

Sure, lots of things in life are hard, but it doesn't mean you throw in the towel and call it quits.

You keep going and going and pushing through.

Struggling through life adds character and builds an unbelievable amount of depth to a person.

I didn't say all of that, but I thought it and I truly believe it.

Then Abrie looked at me and said,

"I think I know what you're talking about. Sometimes it's hard being a kid too."

and then she hopped right down from her chair with her pony tails bouncing behind,

grabbed a wet rag and began helping me clean the kitchen without saying a word.

I think I want to be just like Abrie when I grow up.

. . . . .