I don’t know if I make good decisions. But, I have decided to take the 31 Days of Writing challenge. This seems pretty ambitious to take a challenge to write for 5 minutes every day in October. But… this beautiful little writing community I’m doing it with is really good for my soul and who doesn’t have 5 minutes right? This challenge is a part of the Five Minute Fridays I have been participating in. You can read those posts here and here. You can also read all about the 31 days of writing prompts here. Without further adieu, my first prompt had to be this, of course.
I wish this conjured up thoughts of deep longing in my soul. I wish I could tell you something comes to mind that I was meant to do. But to be honest with you what comes to mind are baby monitors and poop whistles.
Beside my bed, on my nightstand sit two innocent looking video monitors but I rarely need to look at them to know what is going on in my children’s bedrooms. All I need is the sound up. I am convinced my children also have monitors by their beds that go off the second I lay my head on the pillow. I can be hanging out with The Water Man, watching tv or reading and everything is quiet. But I kid you not, the moment my head touches my pillow with the laughable intention of sleep, one or both of those monitors go off.
With teething, I have a baby girl crying in the night that progresses without my attendance. Currently my 4 year old is going through a phase of nightmares each night and he is too terrified to get out of bed so I hear his calls.
“Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mommy, Mama, Mama, MOM….”
You get the idea. This calling continues until I am at his bedside snuggling in or carrying him back to our bed.
We also have the poop whistle. After many days of discovering a child crying in the bathroom because I cannot hear them calling to be wiped, we hung a small whistle beside each potty in our home. If you come to our house, all you need to do is blow that small whistle for concierge butt wiping service.
If you are my older brother, when you come to stay at our home for Thanksgiving, you will blow the poop whistle every time you use the bathroom and laugh in my face when I come running. I am so thankful that boys never outgrow bathroom humor or torturing their sisters.
I guess my calling is what I was meant to be doing all along. I guess I am exactly where I was called to be. Rocking babies, wiping hineys, kissing boo boos, and chasing monsters away. It’s an honorable and exhausting calling and there’s no place else I’d rather be than smack dab in the middle of this beautiful mess of littles.