I Wipe the Butts: and Other Glamorous Escapades of a SAHM

I wipe the butts.
I clean the floor of pee puddles from missed targets.
I pull up the pants and change the ones that have dribbles on them.
I refill the diaper genie.
I scrub off the stray smudge.
I change the toilet paper.

I catch the vomit in my hand.
I am the human handkerchief.
I rub the sick tummies.
I pull back the long, curly, hair.
I mop up the floor and Lysol the rooms.

I make the food.
I dish it onto the plates.
I negotiate the amounts that must be consumed.
I fill the bottles.
I clean up the spilled milk.
I wipe the faces and the tiny fingers.
I collect the food gunk from the high chair.
I rinse the dishes.
I sweep the floor.

I find the piles of clothes, gather them up, and toss them into the laundry.
I fold.
I fold.
I fold.
I wonder how three tiny people can amass so much fabric.
I put away the clothes only to discover the hamper full again.

I pick up the toys.
I find them when tears well up.
I toss the McDonald's ones 3 days after the Happy Meal is eaten.
I am the keeper of Mary, the Jellyfish, and both trains.
I put them in their bins only to see them spilled again.

I break up the fights.
I listen to both sides.
I decide a verdict.
I mandate the apologies and the time outs.
I tear them off each other again.
I send them to naps.

I clean the faces.
I hose off the gunk from the hands.
I scrub the hair.
I rinse and repeat.
I towel dry.
I sop up the bath overflow.
I pick up the discarded towel and hang it up.
I brush the hair and braid it.

I ring the alarm to say day is done.
I squeeze on the jammies.
I read the stories.
I check that the closet is monster free.
I comfort the one still worried about monsters.
I pray and sing and say goodnight.

I plan the meals.
I write out the lessons.
I clean up the kitchen.
I load up the laundry.
I throw a soap pod in the dishwasher.
I turn out the light.

I wipe the butts.

I welcome the little arms that wrap around my neck.
I make eye contact to the smiles that light up.
I give hugs that melt away the worries.
I kiss the boo-boos and wipe the tears.
I hold the hands of the tiny chubby fingers whose feet are taking their first steps.

I watch the coloring.
I listen to the reading.
I marvel at the world they see.
I make the good mac and cheese and pick up the pizza on Tuesdays.
I blow the bubbles.
I bake the favorite cookies, gooey chocolate chip.

I make the voices of the book characters.
I cuddle the little bodies that snuggle close to me as they crunch the warm popcorn.
I listen to the stories.
I stroke the hair.
I compliment the good deeds.
I watch them grow.

I repeat the babble, to hear more babble
I cheer a new accomplishment.
I take the pictures of the memories we make.
I lift the chins.

I sing the Disney songs.
I find them on my phone again.
I dance in circles.

I ask "How big is Josie?"
I run with them to the park.
I hold steady the handlebars on a first bike ride.
I pack the waffles and sometimes I add the cream with sprinkles.
I push the swings.
I spot the climbers.
I lift the little one whose hands beg, "Up!"
I stroke their quiet faces as their breathing slows and they finally drift off to sleep.

I thank God for putting me into this life I live, because even though I wipe the butts, I am here to do SO MUCH MORE and be SO MUCH MORE for my littles.