A sleeping baby makes everything right.

There are some days when I just get tired of being a mom. (Gasp! Shock!) Yes, I can admit it. There are days when I stop liking making breakfast, lunch, and dinner and worrying if the right amount of right fruits and veggies are in the daily meals. I get annoyed rather than sympathetic when Hallie starts fussing after she breaks one of her toys. I don't want to do laundry and clean up after my family. Sometimes I just want to take a nap on my own time. Or sit and have a cup of coffee and read a book without having someone asking me to get them more juice or cheese. Some days I just want to be by myself, somewhere peaceful.


I've started to realize that after you have a child, you take on the most amazing role in life. You're mom. But at the same time, you're no longer yourself. You lose part of your identity. I, for instance, became Hallie's mom rather than Stephanie. Almost every single day of the year, I am the most proud person to have that blessing placed upon me. I will excitedly answer, "why yes!" to anyone who asks and think to myself, how could I ever get this lucky? But then there's some days when I think about what it used to be like to just be me. I think about having ice cream for breakfast and pancakes for dinner. I think dream about have a house that stays clean for more than an hour. I think of a quiet car ride with the windows down. I remember what it was like to just be responsible for me.


Then it happens.


This time, it worked a little like this. Joseph always goes in before he leaves for work and tells Hallie goodnight again and gives her a kiss. I try not to interfere with their daddy/daughter moments, and rather just listen to them over the baby monitor. But the other night, after a very long day, I decided to tip toe in behind him and sneak a peek at my sleeping baby. All curled up on her pillow and stuffed Elmo, her little hand wrapped under her chin, her little chest going up and down...


And as I looked at her, it happened. That overwhelming feeling that nothing else mattered in the world, because I was this little girl's mom. I don't know what it is about a sleeping baby. No matter what tantrums they threw during the day, no matter how many times you had to make them go sit in the corner, no matter how many messes you had to clean up, dirty diapers you had to change, seeing that sweet little face makes everything better.


So the next day, I woke up anxious to get into her room and see that smiling face bouncing up and down saying, "Mommy, mommy, mommy!" I cut her sandwich into a heart shape at lunch because I felt like I would never get out all of the "I love you's" I wanted to say that day, and maybe she would get the hint with bread. I took a car ride just so I could hear the chatter from my backseat driver. When Hallie didn't want to go to sleep at bedtime? I was happy. I got to rock my baby and read every book she had on her bookshelf until she finally started to rub her eyes and yawn. I remembered that the most important identity I will ever have is being a mom. And I liked it. No, actually, loved it...


Because it's day like that makes you realize that although being a mom is one of the hardest jobs in the world, it also has the best benefits.

Please excuse my horrible photography on this one. It's the best I could do without waking her up.

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