The Job

I was talking with some friends the other night and one of them mentioned how often she feels like she has to remind herself that her job is to take care of her children. It isn't to make her house immaculate. It isn't to keep up on crafts or dishes or great TV shows. The job that she chose is motherhood. Full time.

It got me thinking. How do I define myself? Are the things that I do an accurate reflection of the mother I want to be? The wife I want to be? The woman I want to be? Are my actions congruent with my goals? What benchmarks accurately measure how I'm doing? These are the kinds of questions that make motherhood such a challenge. We have no performance reviews, no raises, no promotions. Rarely do we even get kudos for a job well done. So what is the measure?

As I thought about that, I realized there were a million different answers. But for me. . .today. . .it is the happiness of my children. Not the sugar-hyped, play-station induced thing they think is happiness--that's not what I mean. Rather, the gleeful, gut-chugging belly laughs when my boys are playing together and land in a perfect moment. Or the kindness of my children; Todd's careful hand around the waist of his sick little friend as he walks her to and from the couch. The innocence of my children; Ben's face crusted with Dorito slime passed out on the couch, exhausted after a perfect morning on the sand.

I know I can't tie my entire self worth into my children, but I think as a mom, those are the moments I have to cherish and hang on to. My performance reviews will never be posted on my cubicle wall. They'll be posted on my heart. (and occasionally on my blog)