My life as a real person

I am through with chasing the illusion.

There is not a tablecloth or candles on my table, usually it has the remains of play dough scattered across it.

I am so thankful for little activities that can distract the kids while hubby and I talk together.

 Food is such a blessing! (Especially strawberries) And I am thankful for the good moments spent with my hubby that prevented me from washing those dishes last night.

 

 The steps just inside the front door, are never waxed to a shiny perfection. In fact, I think it’s been a few months since I last swept them.

 I’m thankful no one has gotten killed from tripping on the blocks that inevitably get tossed over the baby gate at the top of the stairs.

 

I don’t always cloth diaper, in fact I often don’t even dispose of the disposable diapers in a timely fashion. These are the diapers that I keep throwing in the general direction of the garbage can. 

 I am so so thankful for that well-fed and growing child that uses those diapers.

I don’t have all the clothes clean, folded and put away. This is the never ending laundry pile in my basement. 

 I am thankful that we (usually!) have plenty of clean clothes to wear.

While my bathroom is kept fairly clean (it’s a pet peeve of mine), my mirror hardly ever sparkles. I’ve been planning to wash off that soap “drawing” of Ms.Action’s for over a week. I’ll get to it eventually.

 I’m thankful that soap washes off easily when you do get around to it.

 

My living room doesn’t have matching furniture, or flower pots on the end tables. And usually there are toys on the floor. This morning, the chalk was scattered across the floor shortly after breakfast.

 

 I’m thankful for the great time had yesterday evening, lying on the driveway in our pajama’s and coloring pictures and writing our names on the pavement.

And these are the adorable little people responsible for my realizing my imperfection.

 I’m so thankful that God has used them to set me free. And continues to use them, to remind me that I cannot do it all. And that’s OK. Because they don’t care whether or not they have a mommy that can do it all. They just want a mommy who is there for them. Me, just as I am.

Actually, that’s all my husband wants too, just me.

 In reality, that’s all that God wants.

Not a perfect person, not the most beautiful person, not the superhuman person.

Just me.

A real person.