By Rachel Weidner 
Moms love trying to fold laundry while little bodies flail back and forth in the clean pile, rolling like pigs in a sty as their tiny arms whisk out to snatch a newly folded t-shirt. Moms especially love discovering poop in their child’s pants after putting their last load of laundry in the wash.
Moms love taking soothing showers while being serenaded by their children’s squealing and fighting. Moms especially love if their children pause mid-tantrum to rip open the shower curtain and demand entry by whining and tugging on their clothes.
Moms love cooking dinner with their kids sprawled out across the kitchen floor with coloring books and uncapped markers and little outstretched hands waiting to grasp a promised sticker. Moms especially love stirring homemade pasta on the stove while their toddlers rummage through the pantry and swing open the refrigerator door, begging for snacks and moaning that they’re hungry and need candy.
Moms love trying to put the toys away, fold blankets, and arrange pillows in the living room while tiny mini-mes trail their every move, exuberantly dumping out cars and vaulting into the blankets like dogs in leaf piles. Moms especially love trying to clean the house while tiny humans swing foam swords and ask to fight, only content with stopping if it means they can eat peanut butter crackers on the couch while watching a show.
Moms love trying to call the insurance company or pay bills online with a cacophony of little voices pleading for their attention. Moms especially love trying to figure out whether to press option one or two while their kids lose interest in Lion King and scream at the top of their lungs.
Moms love losing their train of thought while attempting to have a conversation with their husbands because somebody needs a diaper change. Moms especially love trying to snuggle with their partners while little bodies squirm in between them, demanding hugs and kisses as their bright blue eyes blink up expectantly.
Moms love trying not to forget anything while grocery shopping with tiny people vrooming and beeping from the cart’s car configured seats. Moms especially love having to open snacks before paying for them just to console their hungry and belligerent tyrants.
Moms love trying to brush teeth and bend arms into too-tight pajama shirt sleeves just so they can have a moment of peace before bed time. Moms especially love when after everyone is asleep, they sit down only to hear the baby crying from the other end of the hall.
Moms love chasing tiny feet with the vacuum, emptying the dishwasher while chubby fingers drop clean spoons on to the floor, and sweeping up Cheerios from under the kitchen table—especially if it’s the 50th time that week. Moms love trying to read a book amidst excited shrieks and the resounding crashes that accompany the building and tearing down of LEGO towers. Moms especially love turning on Netflix only to find it overrun with cartoons and Tinker Bell movies.
Moms especially love lost sleep, cold coffee, and missed appointments.
More than anything, Moms love going hours, days, and weeks without ever feeling like they’ve caught up or had a moment to themselves.
The simple truth our kids seem to keep trying to tell us is that mothers work best in chaos.
And I’m starting to think they might be right.
Because I’ve been never happier to clean the kitchen than when it means I won’t have to worry about finding a clean sippy cup later.
I’ve never been more content to watch re-run after re-run than when it means I can hold them, snuggle them, and breathe in the sweet scent of their baby hair just a little bit longer.
I’ve never been more OK with staying in the same soiled t-shirt and ordering pizza with my hubby over going out on a fancy date.
I’ve never been more alright with waiting until the movie reaches Redbox or Amazon instead of seeing it in the theater.
I never realized how going to the library and releasing my children into the kids section could be such a freeing experience.
The beautiful part of motherhood is that every cumbersome and chaotic moment adds up into this wonderful life-changing transformation.
For all the annoyance, frustration, and exhaustion my children cause, I also feel equal parts joy, love, contentment, belonging, and purpose in a way only their presence could derive.
The beautiful irony of motherhood is that I wouldn’t trade the chaos for anything.
I really do love it.
Peanut butter tortilla trucks and all.
Originally published on the author’s blog
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