Being the mommy means I get to take the baby to the surgery center this morning at 6:30. After setting out our clothes, preparing the paperwork, diaper bag, and car arrangements, I climbed in bed last night at 9:30 and set the alarm for 5 a.m. with a grimace. Our household usually gets moving at about 7, but I was looking forward to the silence of the morning after a solid night's sleep.
Lo and behold, a child walked into my room at 4:30 a.m. Being the mommy also means I get to comfort tummy aches.
I may not ever experience a good night's sleep again, but I wouldn't trade it for motherhood. (Good thing, too, because apparently, even if I plan for a good night's sleep, I can't get one.)
The woman who fears the Lord, her children will rise up and call her blessed. Probably at 4:30 a.m.
I'm about the business of raising godly children. So far, God has blessed us with six of them! My husband owns his own business, and I'm fortunate enough to stay at home with the kiddos. If you're looking for deep philosophy on this blog, you're out of luck. If you'd prefer random tales of childhood tomfoolery, stick around!
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