|always; without exception|
When the hubby arrives home each day from school, we take the time to share a bit about our days with each other. Yesterday, I made the sad sad realization that in describing my day to Squire, there is invariably a detailed description our son's bowel movements.
I am invariably surprised, inspired, nostalgic, excited, and worried about every new milestone I watch Lincoln reach. This means I am also invariably "on my toes", saying "No!", shutting doors, child-proofing, pulling out my hair then sweeping it up, perfecting the art of distraction, and reading to try to make sense of it all. Aaand until Squire finishes building the computer desk, our computer will continue to have this make-shift baracade:
|Our barricaded computer desk. Yes I blog there. Yes it is invariably uncomfortable.|
Invariably my friends with 3-5 children are more on time and prepared for every outing, play date, or gathering than I am. I hope I can get a handle on all the reasons why to that question by the time I have 3 little ones myself.
Over the course of my 23 years 8 months and 6 days of life, I have learned that it is invariably wise to use a wooden spoon to mix and pour the brownie batter into the glass pan, and to use the rubber spatula for scraping the brownie batter bowl afterwards. Mentioning brownies in a motherhood post like this might seem out of place, but trust me - brownies are invariably wonderful after a long hard sleep-deprived day with a baby.
When I am out and about with my little guy, I am invariably approached by happy strangers with open-mouthed smiles and told beautiful, wonderful things about my adorable son. Every time (and it is quite often) someone calls him "bright eyes" my heart warms a little bit, and my smile widens.
|"Bright Eyes" playin' some tunes - can you see his teeth?! :)|
Invariably, motherhood is demanding, rewarding, exhausting, and exhilarating! I have come to view it as the key to saving myself from my own selfishness, and for crafting me into the woman God wants me to become.
Motherhood is invariably the job where I simultaneously accomplish nothing, and everything everyday. It is the only job I've ever had (or will ever have) where I was loved, wanted, and needed so much. You just can't get better than that.