wiping and waiting

My friend Tiffany has this hilarious bit where she talks about when she finally figured out her true call in life as a mom. She says that when she reduces everything down the her actual work as a mother, it all comes down to one task. Wiping. She wipes noses, wipes up spills, wipes off counter tops, wipes butts, wipes crayon off the wall, wipes toothpaste off the bathroom sink, and wipes tears. She calls herself a professional wiper.

Oh that makes me laugh so hard. And I think of her words often, like when I'm down on the floor trying to pry off dried banana under the kitchen table. Cement could be made from dried banana.

This week I've been thinking a lot about waiting as I am now officially 41 weeks pregnant. I'm waiting for a baby to come, but there are so many other ways mothers wait.  I can think of a few friends who are waiting for a good guy to marry so that they can have kids of their own. I have friends who are waiting and wanting desperately to get pregnant. I know a woman at church who is waiting and praying for her wayward son to turn his life around. I've watched mom's cling to the picture of their child, living in an orphanage in another country, waiting for paper work to be sorted out so they can bring their baby home. Some mom's have to send their kids off to war and wait for their return. I've even thought of the grandma's at the nursing home I worked at, and how they would wait and anticipate a visit from their adult children. Or how one of my dear friends is waiting with full expectation to get to hold her babies in heaven that she carried, but never got to raise.

Few things are as monotonous as wiping. Few things are as taxing as waiting. And yet the wiping and waiting of motherhood lead directly to the complete joy of motherhood. It's all a part of the same thing. And I can think of no greater calling.