this is what I do.

Whoops, I missed a day. I actually didn't turn the computer on once yesterday. From church, to tidying up, to having a guest over for dinner, evening strolls and some tasty treats, there just wasn't a minute to sit down and try to create a post. By the time the children were in bed and our visitor was gone I was ready for sleep. I sat down at my desk for a moment, though. I was seriously considering trying to post. But my eyes were so heavy. I turned to Mr. Boss and asked, “Sleep is more important, isn't it?” He told me that it is, so I stepped away from the computer and got ready for bed instead. Good thing, too. I'm pretty sure I was asleep before my head hit the pillow, and I slept solidly all night.

So, I'll just skip yesterday's prompt, and move right on to today's. “If you couldn't answer with your job, how would you answer the question, 'what do you do'?”

Sometimes I'll look back at my day and think, “Gosh, I didn't do much of anything, did I?” But the truth of the matter is that, even on the days when it doesn't seem like I did much, I still did quite a bit.

The question is what do I do? Without the easy answers of “wife”, “mother”, “homemaker”, “woman”, on any given day, this is what I do:

I do dishes and make breakfast. I change diapers and dress little bodies. I cuddle and feed my littlest buddy. I read my scriptures. I watch something with the children. I sit with C and with E and listen to them sounding out words, I cheer them on when they get it right, and I help and prompt when they struggle. I gently kick Z's little bum every time he pulls down the baby gate and runs into the kitchen in search of a little snack. (That happens a lot.) I put the baby down for a nap (if he lets me). I make lunches, I scoop macaroni or pasta into three little bowls (plus my own), or make three sandwiches and a pack of ramen for myself.

I break up fights and attempt to mediate arguments. I text my husband throughout the day. I give hugs and kisses. I smile and sometimes I shout. I investigate silence. I rescue one child or another from dangers and entrapments. I clean more dishes. I put clothes in the wash, and fold the laundry once it's dry. I clip nails and give baths. I reorganize furniture. I open windows and to let in the light. I enlist help in putting toys and clothes away. I take photographs of my little ones, and will them to stay tiny, like an image – but they don't listen. I anticipate 4 pm. I give kisses and details of the day to Boss as he walks in the door. I hand off the baby and let my arms rest a moment. I send him off again, a bitter-sweet goodbye. I whip up simple dinners. I send children to put on jammies, and help the ones who can't yet do for themselves. I gather my babies and read scriptures and pray with them. I tell stories, give hugs and kisses, tuck blankets around little bodies, and turn out the light. I breathe a sigh of relief. I spend some time cuddling and nursing my baby, willing him into dreamland. I place him, gently, in his bed. I breathe another sigh of relief.

I read. I write. I knit scarves, and attempt blankets. I doodle and draw. I browse pinterest and facebook. I read blogs and sometimes write on my own. I bake and enjoy treats. I watch a movie by myself. I wait and wonder what time Mr. Boss will be home from work. I leap to the sound of the baby's cries. I attempt to keep a tidy home, but usually fail miserably. I put together the program and bulletin for church every week. I make sure bills are paid on time. Sometimes I create, sometimes I mend. I listen to music and sometimes I dance. I cuddle sick babies, take tempuratures, I comfort. I kiss bumps and bruises. I clean wounds and apply band-aids. I wipe away tears and banish monsters.

I notice beauty in the world outside my door, I capture it with my camera, I share it with my children, I try to enjoy it. I play with my children, have conversations on phones made of duplos by pudgy hands. I chase, tackle, and tickle. I laugh. I tease. I love. I encourage and uplift. I enjoy my children, I marvel at them. I listen to my children, I love the jibberish and mumblings and sounds made by little S. I cut hair. I sort through clothing, put away what is too small, send away that which is of no use. I create life, I grow babies, I give birth in my home. I hold little hands and I lead. I wear wraps to keep my tiniest baby close to me. I run errands, get groceries, visit libraries. I miss far away family. I take children on walks and to parks. I teach my children about Jesus, that they are children of God. I try to set a good example and I worry that I fail more than I succeed. I dream and I wish and I wonder about what the future has in store for my children, and for me. I day-dream. Sometimes I lose my temper. I try and try and try. I rest. I pray.