the view from here.

As I craned my neck to look at the street lamp the way I always do to measure snowfall after dark, I caught myself.  A year ago, I looked out the window, hopeful for a vision of snow so thick I couldn't even see the light.  I was so eager to have school called out so that I could stay home with Ruby.

Tonight, as I looked out at that light, I reminded myself how thankful I am to be at home.  I'm not living for the weekends or the next break in the school year.  I am not rushing home to get everything done, just to crawl in bed and not get enough sleep before doing it all over again.

I'm in a different world this year.  I'm not just surviving the demands of life.  I have exchanged that for the challenge of finding a stimulating atmosphere for Ruby, a happiness for Eisley, and a productive routine that works for all of us.  It's not easy.  I can't tell you how many times I have heard about stay at home moms having it so easy.  For some reason, the stigma attached to a stay at home mom elicits ugly words.  Words like lazy and unproductive.  Even freedom is spit with bitterness; as if there is nothing for a stay at home mom to do but eat chocolates while being pampered as the maids scurry around to do all else.

Truthfully, this is the hardest job I have ever had.  It's the most demanding, the least understanding.  It's also the most forgiving, the most rewarding.  The hardest job I have ever loved.  I can't imagine being elsewhere right now.

And this year?  The street lamp clouded with a million tiny snowflakes--that means snuggly mornings with mugs of coffee or an extra hour of reading while I listen to the laughter that fills my house.  Life is so good; that fact is not lost on me.