Gratitude

I know I spend a lot of blog space whining about how hard it is to be a mom, and how little sleep I get, and how much poop I have to clean up. And yeah, it's all true. It is hard. And messy. And I am exhausted every single day of my life. And I realize now that Moms definitely don't get all the respect, and expensive gifts, and pagan-like worship rituals that they deserve.

But I realized this morning, while I was getting up with Monkey for the (literally) 14th time since he went to bed last night, that I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. I love this. And I am so lucky to have the chance to do it. And even though it's been incredibly hard and incredibly limiting to do this on one income, I have been blessed with the chance to do this all day, every day.

I have a son. A healthy, happy, beautiful son. And I know a lot of people in the world would give everything they have to be in my shoes. They would gladly lose sleep, have pureed vegetables spit on them, be occasionally vomited on, and barely be able to pay their bills...they would relish every second of that, because having a healthy baby would mean that much. And sometimes I take it for granted.

Now this isn't to say that I won't revert to my whining, overwhelmed, totally-flabergasted-by-the-gross-things-babies-do commentary. Make no mistake about it, people. Sometimes writing that whimpering drivel is the only way I can keep from sobbing hysterically and hiding in the basement all day. It's like therapy, only much cheaper and much more public. But I wanted to be clear.

I am grateful for my son. I am grateful for the chance to be his mother. And I wouldn't give it up for all the sleep I could ever want.