Today we woke up to a rain and cold. I decided it would be a good day to apply for Ollie's passport and renew my own for our trip this Summer. I went to work bright and early filling out the applications and gathering important documents. The littles enjoyed warm bowls of porridge for breakfast. We did a quick scripture read, had family prayer, and waved Camilla off to her bus.
After dressing the little boys and feeding the baby we loaded into the van and drove to the city for passport pictures. On our way into the photo studio big, giant snowflakes started to fall! The boys stood in the middle of the empty parking lot staring wide-eyed at the sky above as they caught snowflakes on their tongues. On our way back out to the van we paused and ate a few more snow flakes before loading up and heading downtown.
Daddy was in a meeting so we drove around the block for a little while until some parking opened up on the street. He met us in the van, signed the back of Oliver's pictures, and kissed me good-bye. I drove through the slushy streets and found street parking a few blocks from the nearest passport office. While I payed for parking the boys set off the car alarm and I was just a little bit too far to disarm it. I sighed as I waited for my visa to authorize and then trudged back to the van to unload everyone. Ollie snuggled up on my back, Fin held my hand and the older boys threw snowballs all the way to the corner. As we walked, water filled my boots and my feet were soaked before we crossed the road thanks to unknown holes in the soles.
I got in line and we waited only to be notified that I had forgotten to fill out the "Father" portion of Oliver's application. I was so mad at myself. I had missed Oliver's immunization appointment on Tuesday afternoon, and now forgotten to do this. I felt like an idiot. I called Mr. Stannix as tears welled up in my eyes at the thought of trudging back to the van, and the fact that I had just payed for two hours of parking that I wouldn't be able to use. We arrived once more on the street outside Daddy's office where he met us and quickly signed the rest of the form. I told him something like, "We'd better not have any more kids because I can't afford to lose anymore brain cells." Then I made my way back to the passport office feeling grateful to be married to a patient and understanding guy.
I managed to find a parking spot in the same area we had parked previously making my ticket still valid for just over an hour. I said a prayer for everything to go smoothly and quick and then unloaded my crew of boys once more. My feet sloshed in my boots as we walked the block back to the office in the wet snow. Finley slipped in some mud shortly after we crossed the street and his whole pant leg was caked with it. I grumpily grabbed a handful of snow and scrubbed it off as best I could. With dirt now under my nails and with frozen fingers we made the rest of the walk to the warmth of the building. Thankfully everything went as well and things go with four boys, until the last two minutes when my card was authorizing and Finley decided to throw the loudest tantrum I've ever witnessed. With a baby on my hip (too fussy for the carrier) and a toddler under my arm I ordered the boys to grab my diaper bag and follow me. We did a quick ride up and down the escalator as promised for their relatively good behavior and made our way to the doors. Before I left the building I had heard the words, "Wow! Four boys!" at least five times.
I was welcomed home to dog pee in the entry way, five baskets of laundry that needed to be folded, and a counter top full of dishes. I was feeling pretty defeated and starving for lunch. Tears streamed down my face as I spread the peanut butter and Jelly on the boys sandwiches and struggled with feelings of worthlessness and frustration. I was feeling stuck and down on myself because of my lack of education, or knowledge of politics or anything that happens outside of our little home, or ability to remember simple appointments among other things. I felt like "just a mom". I kept thinking well, it's a good thing you didn't finish school, you probably weren't cut out for it anyway, you were meant to be just a mom. Now, usually I am pretty darn happy being a mom, but today left me feeling like my "job" wasn't important, or valued by society. I often get looks from strangers that say something like, "She couldn't figure out anything better to be, so she's stuck at home with too many children..."
Usually when I feel this way I call on my best friend and eternal companion for advice and reassurance. He quickly texted me back, "Yes, but you see you're always the one giving me advice. Your experience as a mom is the best kind of education a person can get." It made me feel a little bit better about myself to know that I am valued. I muddled through the rest of my afternoon making a batch of bread, running errands and dropping and picking up the kids from birthday parties.
Just before bed Mr. Stannix showed me a quote that was perfect to ease my worries and sorrows. He reminded me that being a mother isn't a job, it's a calling. It's not a 9-5 job, it's a lifelong commitment and sometimes a struggle. Nothing worth having comes easy and so is the way with motherhood. Some days are tough and tear filled, others bright and overflowing with joy. But I am grateful to know that as I lose myself in this service I am also finding myself. I am not "just a mom", I am much more than that. And when I think that there isn't another soul that understands the way I am feeling I remind myself of my Savior and how he suffered for all that seems unfair in this life. When nobody else understands, He does. And when I'm having a seemingly impossible day and feeling like a failure I sit myself down at the piano and play this song to remind myself of a loving Savior and older brother who has suffered for us all, and felt everything that I feel.
"To paraphrase what Jesus Christ taught, as we lose ourselves in service
to spouse and family, we find our true selves. Every day, we become more
of who He wants us to become. And that is the source of enduring joy
and true self-fulfillment." -David A. Bednar
