Yesterday I was tired of being touched. I was tired of all the noise: songs, shrieks, whines, cries, shouts. I did not want to change anyone, help anyone go potty, help anyone wash their hands. I did not want to give anyone a drink or snack. I did not want to hold or hug or snuggle. I did not want to read a book or tickle or build a tower. I did not want to figure out what my son wanted or talk things through with my daughter.
I wanted quiet. I wanted to be by myself. I wanted nap time.
But instead what I got was Lydia and Bennet bum rushing me, jumping onto my lap, wrapping themselves around me, and holding on tight. Lydia began singing a made up song about how I was the best mom ever and she loved me very much. Bennet smiled and giggled and put his head on my shoulder.
I was saved by my kids and instantly back in love with my vocation.