Life isn't about me...

I spilled a bottle all over myself and a baby today.

That's like the tagline of how my day went. It wasn't the best day ever. Not bad, per se, but the formula smell seeping through my clothing really captures the essence of the day. Everyone was fussy, everyone in a weird mood. No one slept long enough. And perhaps I really DO mean everybody, employees included.

Those kinds of things don't make or break the day though.

They really don't even define it. They're just things that happened. Things I don't have to go home to and live with, but things I leave behind when I've punched the time card. I like that. Not that I wouldn't love to have a kid of my own (some day), but I'm glad that I don't have eight babies ranging in age from 3-12 months. Not that it's possible, I'm just glad.

Relatively, this was not a bad day. Certainly not ideal. But I'm (re)learning that life isn't about me.

These babies will learn it someday. For now, they cry when they're hungry, sleepy, want to be held, or have a "surprise" for me to change.

Me? Life can't be about me, because that's really not who I am. Not who I should be. As a job, I get paid to serve little babies. As part of life, I shouldn't be paid to have others first. It should indeed be who I am as a child of God.

Serving my family (which is just my husband for now), God, and those around me is what I should do, joyfully, with love. It should come from a thankful heart.

I know these things. I feel like I've known them forever. But they're truths that are finally seeping into my thick head mind as I read the word and hold babies all day.

Totally corny, but I hope this is a truth that seeps in and sets just as that formula smell.

... Speaking of, I think it's time for a  shower...