hands

Today--and well, everyday for the past three weeks--has been so busy (too busy if you ask me), and I have often found myself on my feet from sun up to sun down without a moment to rest anywhere. I generally eat standing at the counter while cutting strips of paper or writing letters in a bold, bright marker on a sheet of paper in preparation for that day's learning moment with Felicity, and it seems the only time I sit down is when I am driving a child to and from an activity (and there have been lots of activities).

My body is exhausted. My mind is full to the brim with schedules and spelling tests and "all about me" posters. My heart jumps around between happy and heavy while I listen to the kids talk about their days, and I remember how much I miss them while they're gone. Life is a whirlwind, and while I beg it to slow down, each passing day seems to speed up without me realizing it.

But today, as I washed the dinner dinner dishes before hopping in the car to pick up the girls from school on this "rainy" school day (I say rainy only because the girls decided not to ride their bikes to school for fear of riding home in the 90% chance of rain, and no rain happened all day), I happened to see my hands moving in circular patterns over and under and over and under, and I felt so much gratitude for all that my hands do in a day.

My hands prepare three hearty meals for hungry bellies. My hands prepare backpacks and sign school notes. My hands steady bicycle handle bars while Elle steadies herself in preparation for riding to school. My hands pick up sad babies after they fall on the sidewalk. My hands play airplane in the front lawn while waiting for carpool rides. My hands give hugs and high fives. My hands clean messes and spills 100 times a day. My hands keep the house clean and tidy. My hands wave to my 93-year-old neighbor each morning on his walk. My hands hold leashes for daily dog walks. My hands pull weeds from flower beds. My hands hold brightly-colored board books before nap time. My hands help small hands trace letters. My hands squish chubby cheeks. My hands click-clack on the keyboard for work. My hands hold the hands of the one I love while laughing at night.

Sometimes I am overwhelmed by all that I have to do each day. Okay, I'm overwhelmed a lot of the time, but I am always amazed by what I accomplish at the end of each day when I actually sit down and think about what I've done.

Being a mother is different these days. It's a painful transition away from babyhood into a life of activities and carpools, and I ache for the slower times of nursing and cuddles, but I also love being so involved and intertwined in the little things of each day. I know my kids see my influence in their lives, even if it's just in their lunch boxes or school folders. They see me, and that's all that matters.