Hanger Fairy

"I believed that being a parent would be a more glorious circuit than it's turned out to be - that the transmission would be more reliable. It's been a lot of starts, stops, lurching, and coasting, and then braking, barely in control, gears grinding and then easing forward."

While doing laundry one day this week, I reached up to grab a hanger from the "extras" that hang up above my dryer, and realized there were none. 

This happens from time to time. 

Because apparently the rest of my house thinks a hanger fairy comes and gets all the "currently being unused ones" out of their closets, and returns them to the laundry room. 

It's a task that only I, the great hanger fairy, does. And it's a task that only I, the great hanger fairy, knows exists. 

Everyone else assumes there is just some sort of magic to wearing the clothes, throwing the clothes in the hamper, and then the clothes reappearing on a hanger. 

As I was mumbling and walking around gathering these hangers, as only the hanger fairy can, I thought about how so much of motherhood is hanger fairy work. 

Work only I do. 

Work only I know exists. 

Work that is largely unrecognized, unappreciated, and unglamorous.

But nevertheless, necessary. 

Worthy. 

As I did handprints on my measuring height door yesterday, I felt sort of sappy over my classroom *only* having two students this year. 

Over the graduation that came so suddenly. 

Over the changes in seasons and the flow of our days. 

This young adult who now holds down a steady part time job - is able to learn new tasks, rise to new challenges. Who enrolled herself in college classes AND paid for them. Who lovingly guides her brother and affectionately adores her sister. Who has a heart for Jesus and loves people. 

The hanger fairy has been hard at work. All 17 years. 

I think this "mom" gig might be the harshest judged gig of all the gigs. 

I would attest judged the worst by ourselves and how we think others see us. 

I think it's the hanger  fairy jobs of motherhood that make the difference. 

The unglamorous, unnoticed, unappreciated at times tasks. 

Because in being the hanger fairy, we are consistently loving with the heart of Jesus. 

And that is what our kids need. 

Not the pinterest worthy parties, or the elaborately scheduled afternoons or weekends, or an Instagram worthy existence. 

They need someone who always gets the hangers. 

Who is so steady the rock that they don't worry or wonder if we will be there for them. 

Mama Warriors, it's tiring to be the hanger fairy. Take a moment this morning, with your coffee (or hot tea or coke or water), and know you are doing BIG things. Worthy things.