“Mom, I want some milk!” my two-year-old whines.
Practically bent over at a ninety-degree angle, I shuffle to the fridge with my eleven-month-old hanging on my pajama bottoms. With great effort, I lift the half-gallon of milk and pour it into a sippy cup. Pain shoots through my back.
Phew. One kid is content – for now.
“Mom, I need help!” my three-year-old yells from upstairs.
I shuffle across the room to the bottom of the stairs. “How can I help you?” I ask, forcing the cheeriest tone I can manage.
“My doll’s shoe won’t fit. It’s not perfect!” she declares, angrily.
I calmly explain that Mommy is injured and can’t crawl up the stairs. She’ll need to bring the doll to me. She dislikes this solution and instead chooses to shout and cry from the top of the stairs, a full-blown standoff.
I don’t have the patience for this right now, I think.
If I’m going to attempt the stairs with a fractured spine, the baby needs to be contained first.
I clap, sing, and call to him like a dog, luring him toward his temporary sleeping arrangement on the main floor – anything to avoid picking him up. I wince as I lower myself to the floor to change his diaper. Then I kneel beside the pack-and-play, exhale to engage my core, and hoist him to my chest. I practically throw him inside. He’s happy and ready to snooze.
I sigh in relief. But damn – that hurt.
As I go about my day caring for my three kids in suboptimal physical condition, I suddenly realize how much I do every day. The small, mundane tasks of daily life as a mom are actually everything. I mentally kick myself for ever believing my efforts at home weren’t enough.
These are the moments where my kids are nourished – body, mind, and spirit. Needs are addressed, patience is learned, safety is felt, and big emotions are met with steadiness.
Nothing about it looks impressive from the outside. It’s milk cups and doll shoes and diapers changed on the floor. This is the work of shaping little human beings. I vow to be more grateful for a healthy body to care for my kids, and the ability to do the thing I love the most: be their mom.
