I like my job.

Last night I was feeling snarky that my husband was perusing the Wall Street Journal while I was feeding the children a bedtime snack. While Blaine drank his banana milk I glanced at my computer, where I had read this earlier. As I remembered how each of those families--friends back in Utah--is suffering, and remembered that my mom now only has 9 digits, I wanted to slap myself.

Then I was reminded that I spent my day sewing while my children played happily outside with their cousins. And Taylor spent his day dealing with cranky customers and came home to a messy house where his wife and children (and dinner) were absent. And I wanted to slap myself even harder.

So I quit tidying up the kitchen (with my martyr face on) and sat down to enjoy the evening with Taylor. We had a good laugh about this exchange with Blaine this morning:

while looking at a picture book depicting the birth of Christ, with a picture of the shepherds and sheep up on a grassy hill...

B: What are those sheep doing up there?

me: Maybe they're getting a drink.

B: But there's no water.

me: That's true. Maybe their getting some exercise.

B: But there's no treadmills!

Bottom line: My kids throw fits and I change really stinky diapers, but my job is really, really fun. I think we stay-at-home-mothers sometimes play the martyr a little too much and forget that every career has tedious, mundane, thankless aspects to it. The following picture parade is a reminder to me of how good my life is. No more snarking. Amen.