I’m sitting at my computer with a child clinging to my legs begging to be picked up because he wants attention. Again. I could have sworn this exact same thing happened an hour ago when I was working on my business training. Oh wait…it did! My daily activities have started to feel very familiar. Wouldn’t it be great if moms could be spontaneous and crazy every once in awhile?

…but kids.

Nearly every morning, I Skype with my parents who live overseas in Malaysia, and every day they ask the same question:

What are you doing today?

Well, let’s see…I have my business training, some bills to be paid, the house needs cleaning, maybe we’ll go on a walk.

And the next day: What does your day look like today?

I didn’t finish the bills, there’s lots of dishes in the sink, I have to finish a blog post, more business training.

You get the picture. I’ll admit, I’m offended right along with the rest of them when someone asks me what I do all day like they expect me to answer that I watch TV, read my favorite book, go shopping for new shoes, and generally accomplish nothing of significance while my husband slaves away at work. Then I look at my answers to questions such as the one my parents ask (because they love me and every once in a while my answer includes something exciting) and I think maybe those people are not so wrong after all. Sure, if the bills weren’t paid we would be in trouble and if I didn’t clean the house it would be dirty, but what difference do my days really make?

Oh, weary mother, is not meaning hard to find on days like today?

While at times blessing counting sounds like an absolute cliche, counting our blessings–intentionality about discovering joy in the mundane–is how we find meaning in wiping spit up off the floor again. 

Today I decided to count my blessings by following my son around taking pictures of all the quirky things he does throughout the day.

Through it I found both the blessings and my meaning–raising this sweet baby is mundane and long and sometimes, if I’m honest, really really boring. But as I watched his tiny hands pry open the lid of the box I keep under the coffee table I realized what this little baby was going for: my Bible. Of course, at this age he doesn’t know what a powerful book the Bible is, all he knows is that he sees his mama read it every day so he wants it.

He does what I model. And what I model has the power to influence him throughout his life and even for eternity.

There’s more than that, too, and it comes in learning to appreciate the every day moments.

The moments when the breeze and the sounds of the trees rustling through the open windows wafts into the living room while you’re nursing your baby and he looks up in wonder. The moments when you’re rocking your baby to sleep and he looks up and notices you watching him and smiles. The moments when poop goes everywhere and instead of crying like you might have done last week you laugh because this is the mama life and you’re owning it. The moment when you’re dancing around the floor because your baby thinks it funny and your husband walks through the door and his face lights up because he walked in to joy. The moments when the small human goes down for a nap and is screaming in protest and you can’t help but laugh because he’s so upset and you’re frazzled and half insane. Even the moments when your baby is following you around screaming for attention and trying to climb up your leg when you have so much work to do, because it means he wants you. Yes that gets annoying; believe me, I know–it’s happening to me right now.

Those moments are everywhere and they’re so normal we cease to even notice them, but when we’re intentional about finding those little moments and smiling we see that yes, what we do all day might be mundane, but it’s beautiful.

Beautiful doesn’t mean quiet, it doesn’t mean calm, it doesn’t mean sane–I grew up in a family with five kids six years apart, so I’ve been around chaos. When everyone is screaming and hungry and needs something at this exact second or they hate this family, beautiful is the last word you would use to describe your day, and after you haven’t showered in a week and have pulled all your hair out in frustration, it’s also the last word you would use to describe yourself.

I’m the mom of one baby–I’m not there yet, but it’s in my future.

Raising little humans is a lot of pressure. Sure, our kids are their own people and they ultimately will determine their future, but as moms we play a very large part. What if we mess up? This kid could end up a weirdo for the rest of his life. It’s a legitimate concern because we all want our kids to flourish, not be That Kid, and nurture can play a large part in how our kids grow up.

This is why what we do every day–including the mundane, boring, insane, frustrating moments of every day–is so beautiful.

It’s because those moments impact who your child will become.

When the kids are screaming and crying for attention and talking back and fighting with each other, you have the opportunity to teach them a valuable lesson about patience and you have the opportunity to learn a valuable lesson about being patient. Of course it’s easier to talk about it than it is to actually do it–I’m up there fighting impatience with the rest of them.

The little moments, the little lessons, the little quirks you’ll notice as you watch your child all make up the messy, frustrating, trying days of a mother. There’s beauty and meaning in these days, but sometimes you have to look.

Today, be intentional about finding those little moments.

Be intentional about enjoying the quiet and the fleeting moments of peace, even if it’s only half a second when you slam the car door shut and you can no longer hear their screams.

Yes, we all have days like that. Being a mom teaches so much character, doesn’t it?

There is meaning in what you’re doing. It’s not always obvious when every single day what we’re doing is the same, but we’re growing small people. That is an important job.

Don’t get discouraged because today looks like yesterday which looked like last week which looked like the last eight months or five years. Mothers, there is so much meaning in what you do, and don’t let the mundane-ness of your tasks convince you otherwise. What you’re doing (teaching a little human to walk, talk, eat, do laundry, exist independently, not die if you’re not around, etc) is a beautiful, meaningful thing, regardless of how mundane it is.

You just have to look.