Grateful.

I've read four parenting books in the last two weeks. I make it a point to get advice from other, more experienced parents because, heaven knows, it (parenting) is not an exact science and we all need a little tweaking now and then.

Today I hosted our monthly (loosely defined, in our case) book club, in which we discussed another, entirely different book (one I neglected for a while so that I could read said parenting books). In addition to our typically brief discussion of whatever piece of literature we chose for the month, we inevitably dove into the more lively topic of motherhood. Two of us indicated that our personalities gravitated to what we falsely perceived as "loftier" goals - climbing the corporate ladder and racking up college degrees. Having grown up in a large family, I loved the sense of "family" and knew that I wanted one, but until I was halfway through college, I wasn't sure how to reconcile that with what I now know to be my vain ambitions. Besides, being a Latter-day Saint, marriage and children are central to everything we believe - I could never pass up the opportunity to achieve life's most fundamental, rewarding experience.

Now that I'm a mother, I realize how much of life had prepared me for this calling. I've always been a Jack of all trades. I had a hard time settling on a major - my interests were varied and my talents unrefined but many. It was always unsettling for me to try to decide what to do with the rest of my life because I wanted it all. And now I see that I am doing it. Right now.

Yes, motherhood can be extremely demoralizing. I have lists of things I hope to teach my children, many of which appear to be falling on deaf ears. I was sent little spirits that prefer to march to the beat of their own drummer rather than listen to my sage advice. Some days I have to brace myself for those hours between 3 and 6 o-clock and pray for the fortitude to avoid "losing it" when every last child demands my attention. At the exact same time.

But every once in a while I get a little gift from heaven. The preschoolers graciously take their naps, thus putting them in a better mood for when their older sisters come home from school. At which point, the schoolchildren hang up their backpacks, put their shoes away, empty their lunchboxes and stow them properly, get out their homework and do it seamlessly (and remember to bring me their planners for my signature), and then scurry outside to enjoy the beauty of a September afternoon. Thus, leaving me the joy of peering outside occasionally while preparing dinner to see them playing contentedly with one another, learning, creating, enjoying nature (okay maybe they were weeds, but you get the picture). For two hours straight. Pure joy.

But I can appreciate today because last week I had several days in which it took me 2 hours to prepare a 20-minute meal thanks to the four of them demanding constant intervention.

I can't say that I've come to conclusions about parenting that are tried and true. My oldest is only eight, for heaven's sake. However, I am infinitely grateful that I get to use my talents within the walls of my home. I get to manage, cook, clean, teach preschool, read, organize, make lists, tell stories, teach piano, sing, plan, study the scriptures, pray, ride bikes, and so on, and so on. I get to do it all. And I get to share it with these precious little people. Who aren't going to be little forever. What an amazing blessing.