This last week, we were in the Valley (the Phoenix metropolitian area for those of you who haven't lived in AZ) for my brother-in-law's wedding (which was lovely, thank you). Because Steve had a work meeting on Tuesday, we decided to make it part of the trip, so we stayed in a paid-for hotel on Monday night.
We ended up running late to go check in, and because I knew beforehand that these fancy places don't do complimentary breakfasts, I made Steve stop at a K-Mart on the way to the hotel so I could run in and quickly grab some breakfast foods, since I knew that that would be easier than trying to take the chillins out to eat somewhere in the morning.
We then arrived at the hotel, and I was immediately a little self-conscious, to be perfectly honest. I'm sure the rooms to this place cost upwards of $200 a night, and as we handed the keys of our dusty, animal-cracker strewn Honda to the valet, I inwardly winced to think of what he must be thinking of us.
I made some feeble excuse about the state of our vehicle to him, and he nodded politely, but didn't say anthing as he took our car to the parking garage. As we walked through the extremely modern, streamlined lobby, noting all of the well-dressed people watching me lug my baby's carseat in one hand and clutching my K-mart bags in the other, I felt like shouting, "I'm an intelligent, well-mannered woman! Just don't judge me by my appearance right now, okay?" I refrained from making any speeches, however, thinking (rightly, I'd assume) that doing something of that sort would not raise anyone's opinion of me, but I still flushed more than a little when Jack decided to lay down on the ground rather than walk, and Steve had to pick him up and carry him (none-too-quietly, I might add) to the room.
We got into the room, the bellhop gave us a short tour (I still was trying to keep Jack from climbing up the furniture, so didn't hear the exact directions on how to work the television), and then we went to bed, after having to listen to Jack share his exact feelings on the Pack'n'Play we had provided for him for a good 10 minutes. I kept expecting the phone to ring any moment with complaints about the noise, but luckily, either the walls were thick, the rooms around us were empty, or everyone close to us were all deep sleepers, because we heard no complaints.
The next day, while Steve was at his meetings, Jack, Clark, and I hung out downtown. Again, I felt extremely self-conscious amongst all of these downtown executives as I was trying desperately to hold on to my toddler's hand, carrying my 20-pound baby in a sling, and I'm sure I appeared rather disheveled for most of the day. Let's face it--who can chase a toddler while carrying a baby while still appearing graceful and put together? (Besides Audrey Hepburn, of course. She could make anything look classy.)
Around noon, I found a little restaurant that didn't have insanely expensive prices, and we ate our lunch. I did sucessfully keep Jack off of the table for the majority of the meal, but I wasn't able to save the tabletop from a thorough ketchup-and-mustard scrubbing/salt dumping, so I left a big tip and then tried to get out of the restaurant whilst drawing as little attention to ourselves as possible.
While I was shamefacedly leaving, Jack decided to treat the experience as his own little parade, and he started waving to several of the suit-clad women sitting at the tables on the sidewalk as I tried to pull him away from the place where I'm sure no one was sorry to see us go.
"Hi!" he said cheerfully, and the professional-looking woman sitting nearest the sidewalk smiled and waved back.
"How old is your baby?" she kindly asked me.
"Four months," I replied distractedly, pulling Jack away from the curb.
"Oh, he's adorable! I have a four-month old at home, and I would love to be able to spend all day with her." she responded, a little wistfully.
That stopped me in my tracks right then and there. What? This beautiful, professional-looking woman envied ME--a harried, cranky, semi-crazy mom?
I asked a few more questions about her baby, and it turns out that she also had a son who was Jack's age, as well, but because she worked, they had to be watched by a babysitter all day. There was no mistaking the longing in her eyes as she watched me, however, and although we didn't talk long or about anything of great importance, that interaction has stayed with me since.
Although being a mother is more often than not messy, and not glamorous or admired by most people, there really is nothing I'd rather do at this point in my life than stay home and be with my sons. I sometimes forget that fact, and although I get bogged down in the messes and the tantrums and the monotony of the days, I realized at that point how much I love being a mom. Yes, it's the most difficult thing I have ever attempted to do in my life. Yes, it's often thankless and overlooked. But more than anything else I have ever done, I feel like what I'm doing truly counts, and I'm grateful for those moments when Heavenly Father sees fit to remind me of the eternal nature of my job. I truly am blessed that I get to be a mommy, aren't I?
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go wipe a runny nose.
We ended up running late to go check in, and because I knew beforehand that these fancy places don't do complimentary breakfasts, I made Steve stop at a K-Mart on the way to the hotel so I could run in and quickly grab some breakfast foods, since I knew that that would be easier than trying to take the chillins out to eat somewhere in the morning.
We then arrived at the hotel, and I was immediately a little self-conscious, to be perfectly honest. I'm sure the rooms to this place cost upwards of $200 a night, and as we handed the keys of our dusty, animal-cracker strewn Honda to the valet, I inwardly winced to think of what he must be thinking of us.
I made some feeble excuse about the state of our vehicle to him, and he nodded politely, but didn't say anthing as he took our car to the parking garage. As we walked through the extremely modern, streamlined lobby, noting all of the well-dressed people watching me lug my baby's carseat in one hand and clutching my K-mart bags in the other, I felt like shouting, "I'm an intelligent, well-mannered woman! Just don't judge me by my appearance right now, okay?" I refrained from making any speeches, however, thinking (rightly, I'd assume) that doing something of that sort would not raise anyone's opinion of me, but I still flushed more than a little when Jack decided to lay down on the ground rather than walk, and Steve had to pick him up and carry him (none-too-quietly, I might add) to the room.
We got into the room, the bellhop gave us a short tour (I still was trying to keep Jack from climbing up the furniture, so didn't hear the exact directions on how to work the television), and then we went to bed, after having to listen to Jack share his exact feelings on the Pack'n'Play we had provided for him for a good 10 minutes. I kept expecting the phone to ring any moment with complaints about the noise, but luckily, either the walls were thick, the rooms around us were empty, or everyone close to us were all deep sleepers, because we heard no complaints.
The next day, while Steve was at his meetings, Jack, Clark, and I hung out downtown. Again, I felt extremely self-conscious amongst all of these downtown executives as I was trying desperately to hold on to my toddler's hand, carrying my 20-pound baby in a sling, and I'm sure I appeared rather disheveled for most of the day. Let's face it--who can chase a toddler while carrying a baby while still appearing graceful and put together? (Besides Audrey Hepburn, of course. She could make anything look classy.)
Around noon, I found a little restaurant that didn't have insanely expensive prices, and we ate our lunch. I did sucessfully keep Jack off of the table for the majority of the meal, but I wasn't able to save the tabletop from a thorough ketchup-and-mustard scrubbing/salt dumping, so I left a big tip and then tried to get out of the restaurant whilst drawing as little attention to ourselves as possible.
While I was shamefacedly leaving, Jack decided to treat the experience as his own little parade, and he started waving to several of the suit-clad women sitting at the tables on the sidewalk as I tried to pull him away from the place where I'm sure no one was sorry to see us go.
"Hi!" he said cheerfully, and the professional-looking woman sitting nearest the sidewalk smiled and waved back.
"How old is your baby?" she kindly asked me.
"Four months," I replied distractedly, pulling Jack away from the curb.
"Oh, he's adorable! I have a four-month old at home, and I would love to be able to spend all day with her." she responded, a little wistfully.
That stopped me in my tracks right then and there. What? This beautiful, professional-looking woman envied ME--a harried, cranky, semi-crazy mom?
I asked a few more questions about her baby, and it turns out that she also had a son who was Jack's age, as well, but because she worked, they had to be watched by a babysitter all day. There was no mistaking the longing in her eyes as she watched me, however, and although we didn't talk long or about anything of great importance, that interaction has stayed with me since.
Although being a mother is more often than not messy, and not glamorous or admired by most people, there really is nothing I'd rather do at this point in my life than stay home and be with my sons. I sometimes forget that fact, and although I get bogged down in the messes and the tantrums and the monotony of the days, I realized at that point how much I love being a mom. Yes, it's the most difficult thing I have ever attempted to do in my life. Yes, it's often thankless and overlooked. But more than anything else I have ever done, I feel like what I'm doing truly counts, and I'm grateful for those moments when Heavenly Father sees fit to remind me of the eternal nature of my job. I truly am blessed that I get to be a mommy, aren't I?
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go wipe a runny nose.
Comments
Also, thank you so much for calling yesterday. It was so fun to visit with you, and Doug and I decided we are going to get that book :) Sure love ya and I can't wait to see you in April!
Steph