Yesterday I was in charge of five of them for 24 hours: the 12, 7, 6, 4, and 2-year-old. And it's incredible how being a mom of five for a day can teach you some things about life.
For instance, I experienced the shell-shock of going from an independent, put-together college student to a half-showered, sweatpants-wearing-all-day, slightly-frazzled, caregiver. I didn't get any homework done, and the time I spent with the Lord was during my quick trips to the bathroom and in between answering math questions. By 9:40, when I was finally sure every baby was asleep, there was no place I wanted to be more than snooze-town. I still had tons to do, but I was whooped.
There's nothing like a 2-year-old falling asleep on you and feeling his drool roll down your arm.
There's nothing like listening to a 4-year-old yelling/singing "Let it go" over the cheers of an indoor soccer game that isn't supposed to be happening.
There's nothing like a 6-year-old explaining his drawing of a half-pig, half-bear monster chasing villagers up a tree that has been colored over so determinedly that it's mostly black.
There's nothing like hearing excited screams from the other room when one of them loses their first tooth.
There's nothing like spending time with some of the cutest, freckle-covered, messy faces in the world.
And outside of all the good times and spills and breaking up fights, sometimes you hear the truest things. Like,
"Tasey, he got stronger and stronger because everything got harder and harder."
How is it that a 6-year-old understands that when life gets harder and harder it only makes you stronger and stronger? and it's something that I'm still frustratedly trying to remind myself??
Motherhood is humbling. And fun. And frazzling. And stressful. And full of opportunities to give up on cleaning the kitchen and have a tickle fight instead.