Payday

I think it's easy to feel under-appreciated as a mother on a daily basis and to therefore expect too much out of Mother's Day, as if it's the only sense of reward or appreciation we get, when really, if we take the time to notice, we get paid every single day, and sometimes, multiple times in a day! 

Case in point: Tanner was a pill during Church today.  Oh, of course he smiled and flirted with my friends and was sweet as could be for part of the time, but then he got tired.  And he didn't have his bed.  Thus begins the battle.  Have you ever noticed how annoying squirming babies are?  They are so tired that if you even think about putting them down to play or give them to their less than favorite person, they'll scream at you.  But even when you're trying to love and cuddle them, they squirm and wiggle and pull your  hair and rub their runny-nose-faces into your Sunday clothes.  It's annoying.  And frustrating.  And draining on the Mom--feels--loved--and--appreciated bank account. 

All of our nerves got a little raw having to listen to him scream the whole way home from Church.  I knew exactly what he needed: lunch and a nap.  By the time we got home, he was so upset and so tired and so hungry that I had to hold him while he ate his peas because he screamed at me if I tried to put him in his high chair. 

But then, something miraculous happened.  I snuggled up close to him in my bed to nurse him and he immediately quieted down, snuggled in close and began the soothing suck-swallow-breath of nursing.  It was beautiful to see his relief and contentment and to know I had something to do with it. For whatever reason, it was so supremely fulfilling for me to know what my baby needed, when he needed it, and be able to give it to him.  I sighed deeply and held my baby close.     

Cha-ching.  Payday.