It's somewhat of a running joke in my family that I had 7 jobs in my 16th year of life.
Waitress at Tasty Pizza, Check Out Girl at Cub Foods, Chinese Food Scooper at Leeann Chin's. From there I moved on to a Summer Nanny Job before an impressive 3 day stint as a Sandwich Artist at Subway. I wrapped the year up with another try at waitressing at Baker's Square. I could never remember the names of all the pies and the gig didn't last long.
But for the last five years, I've worn a more permanent name tag and I'm pretty sure my job hopping days are far behind me.
I'm a Mom in every sense of the word.
I spend my days, all of them, catering to the needs of tiny demanding people.
And I love it.
Even the times when it feels like a thankless, never-ending job. Even when the memory of sitting alone with my husband for long enough to watch an entire season of 24 sounds so, so great. When they pee on things and tell me they are going to runaway and when they won't eat the (kinda) gourmet meal I slaved over.
I love it.
And I won't get all sappy, but really, these kids almost weren't mine.
I mean, they weren't mine and now somehow they are. And y'all, that's an ever loving miracle.
We don't do big celebrations on Mother's Day and Father's Day. Usually a meal with Andrew's parents and some sort of cake. Which is more than enough for me.
But this year?
This year I got spoiled.
Josie spent the past two weeks showering me with gifts. I got a heart necklace with a matching bracelet, a book written just for me, a bouquet of lovely flowers, and another necklace.
She made breakfast AND lunch the whole week before. Lucky for me, she makes a mean PB&J and can pour granola like nobody's business.
She wrote me songs and performed ballets dedicated just to me.
And even if she was totally over it by the time Mother's Day actually rolled around, I felt loved.
Yea. I think I'll keep this name tag.