Lunchtime lessons

Lizzy was munching some peanut butter crackers today, while I attempted to get Bear to eat some of his apple. Suddenly she tilted her little head to the side and said, "I wonder if we'll have beds then, Mommy." I asked her what she was talking about and she said, "After we get old and die, will we have beds?" I told her I have also wondered the same thing and then she asked if we would eat after we die. I don't know where her questions about death are coming from, but I tried to answer as matter-of-factly as she asked. I told her about the stories of Jesus in the Bible, and how he ate after he was resurrected. I'm pretty sure we'll eat, too. Then she asked what resurrected means. While balancing a cup of watered-down juice for the baby to experiment with, I did the best I could to explain the Atonement to my almost-three-year-old. She nodded, took another bite of cracker and went on to talk about princesses or ponies, or something pink and frilly. And I realized again how grateful I am for the opportunity that I have to be at home full time with my children. I don't have to miss these little occasions for teaching my children the gospel or bearing my testimony. I'll admit that I have moments when I feel like maybe being a stay-at-home mom is just me being lazy. I wonder if I ought to be pursuing some sort of Ambition, but it's just easier to spend my day making play dough doggies, and reading Fancy Nancy for the fortieth time. (I still love that book. It totally holds up to repeated readings.) Really, though, I've never wanted anything more than I want to be a good mom. I want to be the one they call to when the wake up from naps, knowing I will be there. I want to be the one to insist that yes, they really do need to go use the potty RIGHT NOW. I want to open the box of crayons for them so they can create their first masterpiece. I want to be there to discuss their lunchtime questions.