Sands of time

I read this and understood immediately.  Why is the home a sense of myself? I shouldn't worry about it being a reflection of who I am, but consider the mess of it all a display of my priorities.

"A good mom has a sticky floor and happy kids." 

My kids need to learn how to work (boy is that taking a long time), but they need to know how to have fun and love the fam.  Tonight, I joined the babies in the sandbox and my 8 year old said "I didn't know the sandbox could be so much fun." The kids counted all of us, noted the missing Daddy and lamented his absence, and had a wonderful time. There is still sand in my hair, but there will be sand in the happy dreams of my children (not to mention their beds).

I must reflect: I know I have been more withdrawn from the activities of my kids than I was years ago or than I would like to be.  Lily's comment was a great slapping compliment.  What season of life am I in? And how am I using my sunlight?  Her final comment of the night was "We get to do this all summer." So I wonder how much sand will wash through the pipes this summer because I think I'll be there with all five of them, everyday.