I recently read something from another mom that has me thinking about sin and selfishness and one of God's natural remedies for it all. As I'm writing this, a thunderstorm is lighting up the sky and shaking our house. Kate has been up twice, and Sam, though he seems to be faring just fine through the storm, took a good two hours to settle in for the night. It may sound ridiculous, but I'm actually trying to type quietly so to not stir any little souls. I'm tired. My hair is a mess. My dishwasher is full of toys to be disinfected. My living room rug is littered with Dora cereal, and the cutest pair of pink sun-glassess are sitting on the coffee table in front of me--totally detracting from the Pottery Barn style I was aiming for. But this--the craziness, the exhaustion, the unwashed hair--this is the clear hand of God in my life.

I should clarify--motherhood for me does not equal martyrdom. I do bathe daily, afterall. I sleep a solid six hours most nights. My home is in relative order. I have a home. And lots of laughter inside its walls. So, I'm no martyr. But, motherhood is hard work, although not the kind of hard work I would have anticipated just three short years ago. Waking up at 4 a.m. to nurse a hungry baby is not hard work. Wiping faces and hands and high-chair trays up-teen times day is not hard work. Getting over myself--that is hard work. Getting over my own self-centeredness. Learning that playing princesses with Kate or rolling around on the playmat with Sam is more important than hearing what some talking head on the TV has to say is work. Realizing that chasing my kids and making forts is eternal work and washing dishes is only a temporal chore--this is the real work of my mommy experience. I'm sick with selfishness, and Kate and Sam are my medicine.

I never realized how selfish I am until I became a mom. I knew in an instant that I would give up my physical life for these little people, but it's taken me a bit longer to realize that parenthood requires me to give up something much harder--my everyday life. I cling to my ego, to what others may think of me. I get all tangled up in appearances. I allow myself to indulge in moodiness when expectations fall short or nerves run thin. I get lazy, frustrated, impatient, insecure, uncertain, afraid. But here's what it all comes down to--the chances that I'll ever have to lay down my life for my children are slim to none, thank God. But yet I'm learning to lay down my life for them everyday. To literally lay down the laundry, the remote control, the phone, the attitude, the grudge, whatever it may be, so that I can be the kind of mom that makes God smile. And them, too.