I am a mother; it's what I've always wanted to be and what I do best. I don't spell well, I can't catch a ball, my house is in a rotating state of messy, but I spend time with my children. We laugh together and read together and learn and bicker and play and sing and wonder together. The oldest three were at Grandma's house for 10 days and I MISSED them. When they came home and the chaos picked up right where it left off, I was glad. Is it crazy to like the noise, the mess, the jabbering of children? This is what I do.
What is that I'm serving my family? Boy, they must really love me!