Thought Provoking Question

Before my dad left yesterday we were able to have about a 2 minute uninterrupted conversation. And he asked me "Do you enjoy being a mom?" You would think it would be a simple question with a simple answer. But not for me. Of course, the remaining 1 minute and 30 seconds were not near enough time to answer that question appropriately. I suffer greatly from making sure that what ever I say is very, very, very truthful. (To the best of my ability anyway.) So, for me to answer that question with total honesty I would have to ponder it for a day and then give at least a 30 minute answer. And ponder I did - all day yesterday. I was not a female who dreamed of being a wife and a mother since grade school. It was something that came over me with time. Nothing about parenting is ever that cut and dry for me! Am I joyful throughout the day?? In answering that question honestly, I would have to say no. I have been challenged greatly by motherhood! I feel the weight of raising children in this world. They struggle with respect and obedience which can make for hectic days. I struggle with frustration and impatience which makes for hectic days. BUT then I start to think of the good stuff. Like when Boop shakes his "bom boms." Or Nature Girl does her ballet dances. Or when Little Mama gets a folding chair for Grandpa Joe without anyone asking. Or when EG gives that special mommy smile. Especially when I look in on everyone in the middle of the night and they are sleeping peacefully. I LOVE the opportunity to educate my children. There is nothing so rewarding as watching a child write or read and know that you were the one who taught them! Yesterday I took the afternoon and just spent time with the kids. We sat in the driveway and they skated and played. We all drew pictures in the driveway with chalk. We had no where to go and nothing to do and it was nice just spending time with them - just because. The definition of enjoy is: To receive pleasure or satisfaction from. You know what, I do enjoy being a mom . . .