My four-year-old today.

He was a tad overly picky today.

His cheese quesadilla- didn’t touch.

His after school snack he wanted corn dogs. But only the breading, always just the breading.

Then he trashed my glitter gel pens that I bought specifically for ME.

Then he promptly spilled some chocolate milk on my paper craft project.

For the kicker he called me stupid about five times today, which resulted in a bar of soap in his mouth (oh yes i did!!)!

Today he was being the jerkiest of jerks.

By dinner I was done. While standing at the sink washing the dried-on chocolate out of his collection of crazy straws that he likes to use all at once when he drinks a shake, it dawned on me.

I am a good mom.

Not just because of the obvious. He's fed, he's dressed, he's relatively happy.  

But because of all of those details that fall between the cracks, unnoticed, each and every day. 

If I were to count the myriad of tiny tasks that I do all day I would run out of numbers. The act of caring and taking care of something so much yet when it's complete, it goes unnoticed. Like thoroughly wiping my kids butt. He might not notice if I’m thorough but I know.

Of course this is not saying that I don’t take shortcuts- I take them as often as they’re presented. That little guy unknowingly drinks out of his toddler sister’s backwashed cup on a regular basis.

Most days lately I have to grit my teeth and just get through the day. Remind myself that one day, far, far into the future, but really just tomorrow, my Leif will be a tall, grown man. Taller than me. And one of these days he will know no longer act like, well, a four-year-old.

Love. We do if for the love. Sometimes we don’t want to or we want to half-ass it because man, the kid has been an extra big jerk today. But as parents we continue to love and care for these tiny people who don’t realize it or understand it yet. But they’re absorbing it, everyday. And the hope is that these sacrifices and small acts will create a dialogue deeper than words and it will lace throughout their tiny beings. And this is how they know that they matter. They are important to this world. The hope is that they will internalize this and digest it in their young minds. So that one day they can carry on and pass down this same burden of love to the tiny souls that they are in charge of nurturing.

At least, that’s what I tell myself. As I wash dishes and gaze out my dirty kitchen window.