How a house becomes a home: { Part 2 }

The other day I was feeling a little gloomy.  Okay, a lot.  Disheartened, disillusioned, depressed.

I wondered if my contribution to life, to the world around me, held any significance at all.

We had just finished all of our Halloween festivities following a difficult week of sickness in the house, school assignments, appointments, constant cleaning, costume preparations, and little boys waking up multiple times a night.  I was completely exhausted and terribly discouraged.  I wondered if any of the previous week’s efforts had even been noticed by my family.  Did they know what kind of work went into making Halloween an enjoyable event?  Did they care?  The left-overs from our Halloween dinner are still sitting in the refrigerator.  “Ghoul Hash” and “Vampire Guts” didn’t garner quite the reaction I had hoped from several of my little monsters. Would they have been just fine without our little traditions? Did any of my work mean anything?

Furthermore, I wondered why that week even affected me the way that it did, physically and emotionally. Why was I so tired from it all?  Aside from being heavy with child, I wasn’t doing anything spectacular that ought to produce such mother fatigue.  I was only doing what millions of mothers all across the globe do every day.  And all the moms I know seem to do it all (and so much more) with ease and grace. Why couldn’t I ?  I haven’t been able to volunteer at my children’s school all year, and I am yet to receive an assignment from church to serve in some way there as well.  Am I really only capable of handling life and serving the people within the four walls of my home?  What kind of woman am I?  I long to do more, to be more than I currently am, to make some meaningful contribution. Why am I so limited in my ability to do so?

Yep.  I was in that place, feeling as low as ever.

As I wiped up toddler goop after meals, swept the floor multiple times, and washed dishes throughout the day, I felt completely and utterly disposable.  Finally, whilst wiping counters from crumbs left by someone other than myself and feeling shamefully annoyed, I thought to myself, “Anybody can do this.  What value is there in my being here, doing this all day?  What difference am I actually making?  And why do maid duties have to be a part of this package? This isn’t what I pictured motherhood to be like.  No. Thank you.”

Just then, as though my disgruntled dialogue within my head had ascended up to heaven as a prayer, I heard an angelic answer coming from behind the pantry door.

Giggles.

Pure delight from my 19 month little buddy at the joy of hearing the noise of glass condiment bottles clinging against each other as he rearranged them on the shelf.  I turned and watched him laugh and laugh at his little game and felt a smile spread across my face.  In an instant my discouragement vanished, becoming a desultory thought amid an overwhelming message from my Eternal Parent that my work had purpose and meaning and magnitude beyond any earthly comprehension.  I was reminded of the significance of each and every interaction with my sweet Spencer that week: changing yuck diapers, lathering with soap, putting on clothes, singing songs, reading books, stacking blocks, snuggling on the couch, wiping his nose, wiping his face, tickling his toes, placing him on his “uh oh” stool, kissing his cheeks, wiping his tears…all of it mattered more than I could ever imagine.

Because he is mine, and I am his.

But more importantly, because he is not really mine, but is really His.

And so is Emery and Joseph and Ashton and Talmage…and this tiny, little thing awaiting arrival and making me fatter and fatter every day;).  I have been given the privilege and responsibility with my husband (who, incidentally, works every bit as hard as I do!) to raise six children of God, each one with unique gifts, talents, and qualities who have the potential of becoming amazing human beings.  Warriors in the cause of truth and servants of all that is good.

This year, 2015, is a banner year for the Family.  It was 100 years ago that President Joseph F. Smith called on families everywhere to hold a weekly Family Home Evening, a time set aside for learning, talking, singing, and playing together as a family.  Also, it was 20 years ago that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints issued the document “The Family: A Proclamation to the World“, a declarative essay on the importance of the family, including principles and values that, if followed, promise happiness and divine blessings in this life and in the life to come.

Believing in those promises is one major factor that motivates me to keep trying.

And so are the giggles.

The smiles, the kisses, the snuggle moments before bed, the pictures, the hugs, the notes, the bedside talks about big and little things before falling asleep.

Family life is hard.  It really is.  Sometimes Seth and I look at each other and wonder what on earth we were thinking. The experience I just described above is one that is repeated in some form or fashion on a regular, perhaps even weekly basis for me.  I get discouraged often.  I doubt my value, I question my adequacy.  But when I find myself in that place, always, always, the Lord gives me some divine reminder that there is nothing more important than what I am engaged in as a mother.  And the tiny sunshine moments sprinkled throughout every single day definitely help as well:).  So yes, it is difficult, heavy work.  But the joy I experience throughout it all far outweighs the strain, making motherhood the single most rewarding calling in my life.

So what is it really that makes a house a home?  I don’t have any home improvement updates today.  We’re still painting and planning and constructing, but I don’t have any more finished rooms to show just yet.  Cosmetic and functional changes to a house to create a space that is personalized and special to a new family definitely play a major role.  However, what really makes a house a home, cannot be quantified.  It cannot be measured by compliments or “likes” or post views.

It is these moments…

The little sparks of light and love, traditions and memory creation that make living in a family an experience worth living for.

{ Learning to climb up the slide}

{ General Conference snuggles }

{ Two goofballs off to the Priesthood Session }

{ Impromptu nature walk excitement }

{ Brother love }

{ “Uh oh” time cuteness }

{ A little Fall Break fun }

{ Soaking in beautiful Autumn weather }

{ Halloween traditions and festivities }

{ Halloween night }

{ The “Daddy Tax” }

{ Finding the bowl }