Love Notes

I love notes. I love to write my kids notes. I love to send them texts in the middle of the day to remind them that I love them. I love to write my Josh notes and remind him that he is better than he thinks and that I am grateful for him.

Brooklyn gave me this note/drawing that she made last week. She gave it to me after a 16-hour work day. I have a lot of those. I have them at least five days a week now. Her note says, "How is work?" and "I love you mom." I have it hanging next to my desk. It reminds me why I am here, why I am doing what I am doing.

I always pictured myself as a stay-at-home, full-time mom. It was my dream. I always thought of that as such a righteous desire. It is what is talked about in General Conference, in Sacrament Meeting talks, in Relief Society lessons. We, as women, are taught that our primary role is that of wife, mother, and homemaker. It is our responsibility to be those things and to be the very best at them as possible.

I am a wife and a mother. But, it's not my primary role. As much as I want it to be, it's not. My present boss, and my previous boss both talk about their wives, who are at home with their children every day. They talk about how they volunteer in their classrooms, they go to their school presentations, events, and parties, they take them to their doctor appointments, they are home with their children when they are sick, they are there when they get home to cook for them and help them with homework. They take them on field trips. They fix cookies for them and with them. They make sure they have their hair combed and their teeth brushed. They make their home clean - both physically and spiritually.

I can't do any of that. I can't attend my children's school events. I can't stay home with them when they are sick. I can't make sure their hair is combed and their teeth are brushed. I don't get to go on field trips. I am at work. My time - almost all of my time is spent at work, away from them, serving other people. I am not there to make their lunches for the next day. They make their own. I am not there to do their laundry. They do their own. I am not there to help with homework. They do it themselves. I am not there to welcome them home and comfort them when they've had an off day. I am not there to wipe their tears, fill there tummies with homemade cookies, hear all about their days. And. It. Kills. Me.

That has not been my walk through this life. Mine has been the need to work and to support my family. My prayer every day is the Heavenly Father makes up for what I cannot give to my children. I don't work two jobs to have nice cars, vacations, extras of any kind. I work two jobs to literally put food on the table for my children. I work two jobs to put gas in the car. I work two jobs to buy shoes for my kids. I do it out of necessity. I do it because I can't ask Heavenly Father to help me if I am not giving it all that I have. I am literally giving it all that I have. I have nothing left to give.

I pray that my children will know that Mommy loves them. I pray they will know that I missed them more than words can ever describe. I hate that all of the mothers are there for school events, but when they look out in the crowd, their mom is never there. It kills me. I hope they know I so wanted to be there. I hope they know that I wanted to be there when they left in the morning and when they got home at night. I hope they know that I wanted to come eat lunch with them now and then. I hope they know that my desires were righteous, but that it wasn't the plan for me.

I hope they know that they have all of my love.