Job offer and some art

Today was filled with temper tantrums and a complete lack of naps.  I think my boys know when their daddy will be home late and play that little game with me.  I was feeling exhausted, frustrated, and like nothing I was doing was making a bit of difference.  Sigh.  And then, I open my email to see a job offer sitting there from my very first professional mentor, a man who helped me fall in love with my profession.  It was the first time I saw real PT - not a series of exercises, but skilled, hands-on treatment.  I saw how he cared for his patients, got to know them, laughed with them.  And I was there in the beginning when he started his practice.  And now, 12 years later, he's offering me a position to come back.  Hmm...how tempting.  To feel like a productive member of society.  I chose not to do pediatric therapy because it takes so long before a visual improvement is noted.  And the same is true with all our home therapy sessions each week - does it really make a difference?  Do I really make a difference?  Would they notice if someone else watched them?

So, I sigh, and walk back into the kitchen, and see this hanging on my fridge:

Our very first art project.  And I know, I can't leave them.  Not for anything full time.  Not even for a 20-hour part time position.  Nope, this is where I belong.

I love how each picture so perfectly describes my children and their personalities.  At the top, we have Warren: meticulous, controlled, planned.  Each paint dab is carefully placed, perfectly round, well spaced.  He thinks, then he does.  In the middle, we have Dean.  Erratic, energized, and all over the place.  Some dots are smeared, some misshapen.  There is no order or plan, dots are clustered together, and you can just see the energy he put into it.  Not to mention all the paint dots on his arms and face as he was experimenting with it.  And then, at the bottom, we have Reagan (thanks to a very sweet 8-year-old boy whose heart is full of Jesus for drawing it for us).  Beautifully drawn purple butterfly, full of color and joy, perfectly controlled.  I love these pictures and how they speak of all 3 of my children.  I am so blessed one of my Hope Mommies thought of me and the empty fridge/lack of artwork I would have for Reagan and filled that void long before Warren and Dean were ready to make anything.