Sometimes I wish I were a kid again. Some days the weight of my responsibilities feels so heavy and I want to dump it all on someone else. I want someone to fly in and clean the house, play fun and educational games with the kids and then make a delicious, comforting meal. But there’s no one here to do that. Except me. If the house is going to get clean then I have to do it. If my kids are going to get the love and attention they need I have to give it to them. If I want to eat a home-cooked meal tonight I have to cook it.
Sometimes I just wish that I could be a kid running to my mommy. My mommy would give me a hug and tell me that this is just a phase in my life and that I’m doing a good job and that she’s proud of me. My mommy would make everything all better. But she’s not here. I am the mommy and it’s my job to make everything all better.
I love being a mommy, but even more I love being a child. If I didn’t have my heavenly Father daily giving me the strength to wash dishes and fold laundry then I would fail and I would always feel the way I’m feeling right now. But I have to remember: this is just a phase in my life, I’m doing a good job and my Father is proud of me. At least that’s what my mommy would say.