Finding joy in the monotony...

More often than not, a day at home with Swee'Pea is anything less than glamorous.

Breakfast and coffee and dishes.
Lego building.
A few too many episodes of "Super Why."
Him begging me to go to the gym.
Me trying to decide if I'll give in to the desperate pleas of my four year old or the desperate cry in my bones for just one. more. cup. of liquid sanity.
Hungry.  He is always hungry lately.
Washing what feels like my millionth bunch of grapes this summer.
"Can I play the iPad?"  over and over and over.
I try to play with him as much as I can, but being the sole source of entertainment sometimes gets tiring.
The iPad comes out to play.
Lunch.  Tears over eating.  I don't like turkey!  I don't like carrots!
Time outs.
More tears.
45-minutes-later and a few "you will NEVER go to Disneyland again if you don't eat these carrots!" and lunch is done.
Desperation makes you say crazy things.  
The start of home school lessons.
Fidgety.  Whiney.
How about nap time?
More tears.
To his room.  Crumpled in a heap of emotions on his bed.
Almost an hour of "am I done now?!" and I'm about to lose it.
More tears.  This time from me.
I am not a napper, so nap time is my sacred quiet time.
To study.  To pray.  To read.  Or to not read.  To perhaps sit with a bag of pretzels and watch "Teen Mom" on Netflix just because i can.
He is up.  Sometimes after an hour of yelling back and forth at each other.  Sometimes after nearly 3 hours of good, hard sleep.
We try school again.
It sometimes goes well.
And sometimes there are more tears.
We always finish with encouraging words, stickers on our reading chart, and praises for a job well done, no matter how little we may have in fact completed.
Time for more snacks.
Always he begs for strawberries.
Always I offer whatever is washed and ready in the fridge.
Time for dinner.
Another bean burrito.
Daddy isn't home in the evenings much so I am almost always unmotivated to cook.
A promise of Yogurtland if he would just eat those gosh darn carrots!
More tears.
We resort to watching television with a plate of fruit for him and a glass of wine for mommy if we are really being honest here.  
Maybe a shower.  Maybe some popcorn.  Maybe climbing into mommy's bed because she doesn't like to sleep alone.
And at the end of the night, as I smell his sweet little boy smell, I always, always thank Jesus for this sweet boy. For the lessons I am learning each day parenting him.  For the grace God has with me as I stumble about and mother in the trenches.  For the forgiveness I have been granted for the countless times I screwed up and sinned throughout the day.

This doing daily life with Swee'Pea is still relatively new to me.  I didn't used to get to spend my days with this precious boy.  I remember those years vividly.  I remember the pain.  the bitterness.  the anger.  the jealousy.  I remember how burdened my heart was to be at home, and how miserable I was in every. single. aspect of my life because I wasn't.  I remind myself of those days often, because in reminding myself of my past I am reminding myself to rejoice in my present.

Because when it seems like I've folded my hundredth sock...
and cut my thousandth apple...
and wiped up my millionth crumb...
and said "no" for the billionth time...

i remember.

This is all a gift.
A precious gift that I don't deserve.
Being home with this sweet little man.
Being a wife and a mother.
It was what I was born to do.  
And I am grateful.
I am filled with inexplicable joy.
A helpmate to my husband.
A mother to my son.
What greater gift could I have asked for?

It isn't always easy.
Or beautiful.
Life is messy.
And it is hard.
I get lonely.
And I whine.
I am selfish.
And I sin all the time.
But when it comes down to it, there is no place I'd rather be and no job I'd rather do.

Every single day is another chance to find joy.  Even in the hardness and the chaos.  Even in the messes and the monotony.

"This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."  Psalm 118:24