As I slid into the bed with my two youngest daughters, snuggling and waiting for sleep to overtake them, I could almost hear the collective sigh of my fatigued mind, my worn out muscles, my exhausted bones, and my weary heart. It had been a long day. Every day is long lately. It seems it’s nonstop…the to-do list, the needs, wants, demands. There is never a lull in the craziness…

It’s always something…

My heart grows weary when I enter the bedroom and find an entire box of bandages emptied and opened.

But my heart can’t help but smile when she proudly announces, “look, I can open them just like cheese sticks.”

My heart grows weary when I find her hair greased in coconut oil.

But my heart can’t help but smile when she tells me, “I was just getting the crumples (tangles) out. My hair gets crumpled when I sleep.”

My heart grows weary when I enter the bathroom and find an endless amount of toilet paper unrolled. She is caught…red-handed.

But my heart can’t help but smile at the pride she has in the fact that she wiped herself.

My heart grows weary as I watch her toss the eggs, fresh from the nest, into the basket and hear them crack.

But my heart can’t help but smile at the bewildered wonderment on her face as the yolk oozes and drips.

My heart grows weary at the scattered cat food…everywhere. Her little hands still clutched tightly and full.

But my heart can’t help but smile at how much she loves to feed the kitty.

My heart grows weary at the sight of the spilled milk on the counter…and the floor.

But my heart can’t help but smile at the fact that she was helping her baby sister.

My heart grows weary when every one of my freshly bloomed flowers is stripped from the plant.

But my heart can’t help but smile as she boldly hands me a fresh bouquet, a smile beaming on her lips.

My heart grows weary at the sink filled with toothpaste. Why can’t they seem to get it ON the brush?

But my heart can’t help but smile as she enters the room, bubbled foam still on her chin from where she brushed her teeth ALL BY HERSELF.

My heart grows weary when it’s time to walk out the door and she arrives in mismatched clothes. She looks like she dressed in the dark.

But my heart can’t help but smile because it’s so her. Her attire is a reflection of her care-free, untamed spirit.

My heart grows weary at watching endless cartoons on a rainy day.

But my heart can’t help but smile at the extra snuggles that I get to enjoy as I breathe in the scent of shampoo mixed with honey residue from breakfast.

My heart grows weary at the puddle on the bathroom floor.

But my heart can’t help but smile because, in HER mind, she made it to the potty.

My heart grows weary at the endless supply of half colored pictures littering the living room floor.

But my heart can’t help but smile as she presents me with the card that she made. She worked diligently until it was PERFECT.

My heart grows weary as I clean up the pile of grated butter…it was supposed to be cheese.

But my heart can’t help but smile at the fact that she wants to learn how to cook “just like mommy and daddy.”

My heart grows weary at the pile of crayons, dumped all over the table and floor…again.

But my heart can’t help but smile as she tries to name the colors when mommy asks her to help pick them up. She gets them all wrong…except black and pink. She is a Minnie Mouse fan.

My heart grows weary as she dismantles the SAME puzzle for the 9,000th time and brings it, piece by piece, to me.

But my heart can’t help but smile as she begins to attempt to match the pieces with the picture guide on the back of the puzzle board.

My heart grows weary when I have to wash a dozen forks after EVERY meal.

But my heart can’t help but smile at the fact that she thinks she is helping set the table by grabbing a handful of utensils. She can finally reach the drawer.

My heart grows weary when I am brought the SAME book…again.

But my heart can’t help but smile when she starts “reading” the story herself.

My heart grows weary of the constant clinging and crying.

But my heart can’t help but smile when I think of how she loves me, wants me, and needs me beyond immeasurable comprehension.

My heart grows weary when they ruin the brand new chalk by grinding it into the sidewalk and then smearing it around with the broom. My good broom.

But my heart can’t help but smile when they announce, “look, Mommy, we made Aurora Borealis.” They know it’s at the top of my must-see list, and It makes my heart surge at the fact that they know what it is.

My heart grows weary when she has ONE more thing to say after I KNOW she has met her speaking quota for the month.

But my heart can’t help but smile when that one last sentence is, “you and Daddy are my most favorite people.”

My heart grows weary every night as we fight the battle for bedtime.

But my heart bursts at the sight of their sleeping faces, knowing that the time spent under my roof is fleeting.

My weary heart will find much-needed rest, all too soon. For now, I pray that the smiles help keep it fueled and that I am able to find the beauty in all of the “weary moments.”