I got this from a friend and loved it. Don't we all feel this way sometimes?
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.' I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude, but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' The workman replied, 'Because God sees.' I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become. At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime, because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine for a monument to myself. I just want him to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.' As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great job, MOM!
Samantha is finally figuring out the walking thing! I know I should live in the moment, and not just be looking forward to the next phase. Generally, I would say that I am pretty good about that. She has been so frustrated over not being able to walk on her own, though. She wants to walk everywhere, and she gets mad when she can't; she just hasn't been able to get it down! She finally took a couple of steps on Sunday, and has been practicing ever since. I can't wait for her to start chasing Carter around instead of him always going after her. Revenge will be sweet... 
What? I didn't tell you that I chopped my hair off, got a boob job and lost 30 pounds? I am getting my hair done tomorrow, and I heard about this site, 
Anyways, I didn't find any great inspiration, but it was a fun way to kill some time while Mike watches his 10
The curtains are what I am most proud of. I finally found the curtains I liked, but they only had 2 long panels and a valence. So, with a little bit of magic, I have 3 short panels! I am well on my way to being sweatshop material (I do need to work on my speed, though. These took me about 3 hours). 
I now have this beauty. Now we just need to make the rest of the bathroom match.
The aforementioned non-shooting Pez dispenser.
Samantha's Easter balls(?). The Easter Bunny is too accustomed to bringing boy things to this house. At least they are pink and purple, right?
Carter was incredibly proud that he had made his own breakfast one Saturday while Mike and I were upstairs. Look closely--yes, that is a mixing bowl and that would be water, not milk. Gross! He ate most of it, though. 
Samantha will climb up anything. We walked into the office and found her on top of the step ladder jumping up and down. She would have stayed there all day if we would have let her. 
Carter enjoying a movie somewhere in Nebraska. I swear that has to be the flattest, boringest state ever. The kids get jobs at the McDonald's just to get some small glimpse into what is happening in the real world as people stop in on their way through. 
Samantha discovered Noodles and Co's Wisconsin Mac and Cheese (it's even called that in Denver, where it's headquarters are, incidentally). She could not get enough! 
This one I just noticed as I was editing the pictures. Same:
Back home, enjoying a day at the zoo. It was Samantha's first train ride. I was afraid that she was going to dive out mid-ride, but we were able to keep her inside the car. 
We hit Cold Stone after the zoo. I told Carter about it forever ago, but we haven't gone. He is always talking about it like we go all the time. So we finally went. Stating the obvious, Carter loves chocolate. This was only the beginning. It was downhill from here. Let's just say I had to wash the coat. And the shirt. And the pants. 
Samantha was content just to push this chair around Cold Stone until she fell backwards and it landed on top of her. The chair seat landed right on her little nose, giving her a bloody nose and cutting her right below the nose. I thought about taking a picture, but I am not sure I want proof of my neglect. It turned out to be fine, and she recovered within a few minutes. Here she is pre-fall.
We had such a great weekend! The weather was fabulous, so we spent Saturday outside trying to make our house look a little better. There is a strip of dirt running between the driveway and the house that was overgrown and just a mess. There were a few trellises help up with twine and broomsticks, and an ancient clothesline with old rusty poles. It ended up taking the whole day just to tear everything out and make it so we could plant anything. After taking the afternoon tearing out everything living or not, our neighbors come over to introduce themselves and start talking about the amazing hollyhocks that grow 10-15 feet tall each summer in that little garden. Oops. Not anymore. There was something with incredibly large roots. How am I suppsed to know that it's not some random weed? We did plant some roses, though. I got them for $3 a bush from Sam's Club. That seems really cheap. I am not really expecting them to make it and if they do, I will be amazed if they bloom. I also got some raspberry and blueberry bushes from Aldi. Again, super cheap. If this is one of those instances where you get what you pay for, I am screwed. 
The next outside project is the back yard. Yikes!
