My kitchen will never look the same again.
Pots and pans littered across the floor, a mischievous grin spread across Little Man’s face.
“Ah ha,” the grin said. “I made more work for Mommy.”
It may be more work, but I’ll gladly do it. All for the joy that comes first from Christ, but then the happiness I can claim that my littles bring to me.
It’s exhausting, this thing called parenting, but worth it. Oh so worth it.
From the piles of laundry to the dust collecting on the baseboards.
From the neverending pile of dishes to the unmade beds.
From the sleepless nights to the soothing cuddles.
From the cough that wakes the house to the contagious giggles that spread like butter on bread.
From the sibling rivalry fighting over one toy that they’ll both forget in less than a minute to the sweet sibling hugs and shared laughs.
It’s easy to muddle through the mundane, but down in the depths of the mundane, is the joy, the happiness, the love.
The love we have because Christ first loved us.