Happy Tears

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As usual, we took the girls to church this morning.  They looked adorable.  They had on cute little summer dresses with tulle hair bows in their hair.

They weren’t horrible during mass.  Goosie tried to run away once.  She asked to go to the bathroom around 45 times.  She kept fanning everyone around us with the papers.  Mae was a bit restless.  She kept trying to get away.  I’m not really all that sure what she was annoyed with, but she was fairly annoyed most of the time.  And Magoo was good as usual.

It wasn’t an extraordinary mass.  I won’t remember it for their behavior either way, but by the end, I was exhausted.  My sprained foot kept hurting because people get jumping on it; my stomach hurt because I kept being kicked in it.  And I was just done after an hour of keeping everyone under control and in one pew.

But right after the priest walked out of church, the lady in front of me turned around.  I held my breath, not sure if she was going to tell me she was upset about constantly being knocked around by stray feet and books and hands.

But she took my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, “You do a very good job with these girls.  Thank you for bringing them to Mass each week.”

And even now almost twelve hours later, I’m still tearing up writing about it.

I don’t deserve a thank you or a good job or a compliment of any sort.  I’m doing my job as a mom, just like everyone else.  I signed up for this, and I get paid for my troubles in plenty of hugs and kisses.  No one really deserves to be praised for living out their vocation.

But you know what?  It feels really, really nice every now and then.

TJ thought I was silly when he saw me get all emotional in the car when I told him.  He gets compliments when he brings them to the store.  Everyone thinks a big old daddy with three little girls is adorable, and he gets comments about it everywhere he goes.  And I’m glad he does.  He is a very good dad.

But moms are just expected to do all of those things.  And that’s fine.  It’s what I quit my job for.  But still…

It felt awesome!

So I am going to keep that memory and I am going to lock it away in my heart, and I am going to remember those words and I am going to share them with other moms when I see them struggling.  Especially years from now when I’m far removed from the struggles of wiggling toddlers, and I’m apt to look at other young moms with wistful eyes.  I’m going to share those words.  I am gong to pass them on and be generous with them.

Because being a mom is the most rewarding aspect of my life.  I would gladly do it if no one ever saw anything that I do.  But still… it feels really great to be appreciated.