There I was. Upstairs chatting with our recent houseguest while finishing up some never ending housework. (Wait...that'd be an oxymoron, right?!) Thinking the kiddos were playing together so sweetly downstairs (hence the silence) and thinking myself such a Grade A mama for raising such amicable siblings. Not to mention ridiculously talented, as our art projects had revealed just moments earlier. Yep, I was that mom. The one who has it all together, the meticulously kept house, darling children, and a killer bod.
Well, ok. Minus the killer bod. But as soon as I was done with these dishes and could pry myself away from the continual conversation provided by my guest I was headed downstairs for my work out. So my killer bod was practically well on it's way.
I finally made it. Downstairs. Where this sight greeted me. Two cherubs blasting up unknown enemies while the other two watched and waited their turn.
Until the patiently waiting turned into the soundly sleeping. Emmanuelle, exhausted from a packed day of activities that only super mothers can possibly undertake, had finally had enough. But instead of finding a cozy corner to dream in, she passed right out in the best seat in the house for watching ensuing computer wars.
And I got all warm and fuzzy inside, seeing my kiddos playing together so amicably in the one activity where they didn't actually have to play together at all. In front of their surrogate mother who always has a moment to spare when my hands are full and sudsy.
Many mothers do noble deeds. Only a precious few know how to sub out the toughest jobs. ;o)
