Jacob likes things he can squish, like play dough and silly putty. His favorite, though, is bread dough. He asked me to make him some this afternoon. The baby's been fussy the last couple of days and hasn't been sleeping very well during the day. So he was crawling around whining and eventually came over to my feet. Jacob was at the table "helping" me with the kitchen aid settings while it was mixing the dough. Jacob was messing with some flour that had fallen on the table and eventually picked some up and dropped it on Noah's head, who at this point was getting pretty mad I wasn't picking him up. I got a weird glimpse of how this must look to an outsider - crying baby, the older brother nonchalantly dropping flour on his head while the mom tries to make some food, the 3 year old doing a puzzle on the side. It's a scene that could be played out in any point of history, in every society. Different setting, different food, different things being put on the baby's head. But the same feeling, that you're just trying to get things done, that eventually everyone will be happy but you can't please everyone all the time, you just want to get through this moment and you can move on to taking care of the next thing.
Being a mom is such a unique job as every situation is different depending on the kids, the economic status, the location, the marital status, religion, family relationships and so many other things. It's nice to have a glimpse, to know that you strip away all of that and you find the basics of the job are so similar - to know you're not the only person who's just wanted the baby to stop crying, the kids to be entertained, the food ready, and everyone is happy for the moment.
That did happen - the baby laid down for a nap, the boys played with their dough, I ate a hot roll, life was good. And in a moment where there was more chaos than I liked, it was nice to feel connected to something bigger.
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