Most days, I'll admit I don't feel all that significant.  The only table I wait on is that of a picky 2-year old who loves fruit snacks and Goldfish crackers, and half the time I'm lucky if I even manage to brush my hair before tying it back in a knot.

I've had many insecure moments, when I pass a mirror and stop for just a moment to examine the tired face looking back at me.  It is rarely wearing make-up, the eyebrows are usually very unkept and unplucked, there are usually dark circles under the eyes, tousled hair and some of the time there are traces of crayon or even a stray dinosaur sticker stuck somewhere on the forehead.  But it's me.  It's a mommy. 

I make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and I read nonsensical rhyming board books.  And if, at the end of the day, I don't get to turn more than a few pages in my own books, it's okay. 

I snap silly photos of a giggly toddler and a chunky baby.  Most of them aren't professional-looking or even all that clear, but they make sense, and they are perfect to me.  I kiss boo-boos and I clean up Kool-Aid spills.  I watch cartoon dalmations, little blue aliens and animated robots.  Most of the time I don't even know what new movies are out in theaters, and in my little house snuggled in a chair with my boys, I know exactly what movies will be playing every day. 

Most days I don't finish even half the things on my "To do" list.  The laundry isn't always folded, the toys aren't always picked up, and the dishes aren't always washed.  But as long as I can read Caleb, my 2-year old, his night-night books, pointing to the cow jumping over the moon in "Goodnight, Moon," I go to sleep with a smile on my face. 

As long as my four-month old Jacob is snuggled in his cozy jammies and resting peacefully in his bassinet, I'm okay with not having a mopped kitchen floor, because the truth is, someday I will look back on these ordinary days and I will miss them so very much.

I love finding legos and matchbox cars in my purse.  I love that there are rubber duckies in my bathtub.  I love that I find pacifiers in my bedsheets.  I love that there are always sippies of apple juice in my fridge.  I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Sure, there are moments I have longings to feel free, and many nights I wish I could sleep more than a few hours without getting up to nurse, but I know that someday, not too long from now, my boys will be in bunkbeds reading their OWN books and asking to stay up late.  They won't need me to read to them anymore. 

I know that someday, before I know it, they'll be in school for most of the day and I'll find myself lonely and missing them.  And many years from now, although it will go by in the blink of an eye, my boys will leave me, as they should, and take care of their own families.  Oh, how I will miss them, and these ordinary days, and my sweet, sweet memories, will be recognized for what they really are...extraordinary.