A homemaker's joy

Anytime someone asked my mom what she did for a living or had to fill out paperwork with her occupation, she always answered with, homemaker. Most of my friends had moms who were not homemakers. I imagined they had glamorous jobs and were treated with much importance.

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My mom was intelligent, kind, college-educated, donned an apron, and passed out her homemade oatmeal cookies daily. I often wondered if that was all she wanted out of life? Cleaning and cooking and washing laundry? Tending to the house, to seven children and my dad?

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I wanted to be a mom myself but not necessarily a homemaker. I would have a career and serve my family in different ways. Instead, life took me on an adventure I didn’t imagine and taught me things I didn’t know.

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When James and I adopted three children who needed time to adjust and attach, it became abundantly clear that I was needed at home more than needed in the corporate office. I came home, and I loved on those babies day after day with the mentality that this was temporary.

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When our youngest started kindergarten, I planned to take a month to revel in a quiet house, and then I would re-enter the workforce. Six days into the school year, there was trouble. It became apparent he would not function in a typical classroom setting. We decided to pull him out, and I would homeschool him, which led to me staying at home for the last eleven years.

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I, too, cook and clean and wash laundry. I tend to the house, to three busy children and my husband. I homeschool, I write, and I daydream. I don’t attempt the oatmeal cookies, though, because one should not mess with perfection.

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I’ve learned that homemaking is so much more than a list of tasks. It is creating a home, a lifestyle, of love and joy and acceptance. I think that maybe, just maybe, the joy in the faces of those who enter the home is simply a reflection of the homemaker's joy because she understands the daily rhythm of her life, no matter how mundane, truly matters.