This IS Glamour, Baby!

Why, hello! It's me...Nikki. You may not recognize me because for the better part of three weeks I've been covered in puke, snot, phlegm, poop, and most other kinds of bodily emissions. My dear sweet children have been sick, passed it around, picked it up again, passed it around, and are now - Glory to God! - well again.

The mothering life is full of glamour, isn't it? Cleaning up puke, cleaning up splatters of said puke five days later when you realized you missed it the first time, wiping noses, doing laundry, making beds, making meals, listening to whining about said meals, picking up toys, retrieving said toys from toilet, and the list goes on. Lather, rinse, repeat. Day in. Day out. Same thing. Over. And over. And over again. If only I had my own personal Alice from the Brady Bunch or had a nanny or two like I see those Hollywood starlets have (hello, Angelina Jolie has SIX nannies! What on earth?!), maybe my mothering life would seem more glamorous. Maybe I wouldn't be so completely exhausted. Maybe the scale wouldn't reflect a woman who had buffalo chicken dip and Mountain Dew for breakfast.

But maybe I wouldn't be the first person my children want when they're sick.

But maybe I wouldn't have mine be the name they call when they need help.

But maybe I wouldn't be the one they want to hold their hand and make everything better.

But maybe I wouldn't the one that makes them smile with my corny jokes.

But maybe I wouldn't know just the right blanket or stuffed animal to help them rest.

And if even one of those "maybes" were true, my heart would be broken and I would be missing out on what God has for me and what He wants to do in me. But none of those "maybes" are true. And as far as I'm concerned, that's pretty glamorous.