My biggest victories during my day include things like: buying chicken on sale in large family packs, then repackaging and freezing to get twice as many meals out of them. Making a killer granola. Writing letters at the kitchen table [for the millionth time this week]. Enduring a no-nap-meltdown with grace and patience. Inexplicable celebrations regarding where the poop is supposed to go. 
And who celebrates these things with me? Mostly my sister, because she’s fighting the same battles. But otherwise, some of my biggest accomplishments go completely unnoticed. I don’t have a project team to celebrate. I can’t walk down to the water cooler or to Dan Who Knows Everything’s desk to tell about my incidents. There’s no LinkedIn group to join to ask about toddler napping strategies (though FB has served me well with this info). 
My phone log. Yes, I do talk to my sister that much. Notice also the calls to my realtor. Bless her. 
Motherhood from home is a lonely endeavor, especially in the young-and-numerous years. Not only because you’re limited to play dates and preschool pick up times, but often you find so much joy and purpose in the simple and small things (because, well, we’re dealing with a pretty simple and small audience all day). Those not completely immersed in the culture don’t always identify with your struggles or your victories. 
I’ve found that my good days contain an element of connecting with others on issues not related to the home – helping lead a women’s ministry at church, assisting with some simple tasks at the school, seeing an old friend, and my New Book Club. I don’t do these to “add a level of meaning to my life”, because my life is meaningful. They add relationships to my life.  
I don’t need a standing ovation when the garbage disposal smells like lemon. And a “thank you” is quite enough when all the laundry gets put away on the same day it’s washed (<- alone.="" attention="" celebration.="" div="" experience="" happens="" i="" it="" lacks="" largely="" life="" love="" moments="" my="" nbsp="" never="" not="" s="" that="" the="" when="" yes="">

When JJ asks what he can do, I don’t have advice. Nor for you, fellow reader. You can ask, I can respond, but until you live in these trenches and know the largeness of the victory for what seems like a tiny struggle, it will be hard to truly empathize or celebrate. These things seem so small in comparison to your world of co-worker drama, bosses and clients breathing down your neck, missed appointments and big sales. And it’s okay – I get that. Honestly, a multi-million dollar account probably is a bigger deal than mastering the letter J. 
These are the things that matter in my world for the moment. I love them. I’m trying to treasure them because they will disappear so quickly. So for a mom out there celebrating silently, I say hooray! You are not alone. (And if it has anything to do with convincing a 2 year old to poop in the potty, throw the advice my way. This one, she is a willful one.) 

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