One of my wonderful client friends sent this to me, and it made my day. So, I thought I would pass it on to my other wonderful mom friends.

I'm invisible.

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.

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 as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it.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. And 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."

And 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 or a monument to myself. I just want him to want 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.

:o)

Just wanted to post a couple of Miss Priss. :o) I'd post some of the boys....but after the salon BUTCHERED the haircuts, Momma won't be chasing them with the camera till they start to look normal. Poor Mason looks like he let Reagan cut his hair, and it's much shorter than ever. I boo-hooed like a big ole baby, but what's a girl to do. Hopefully it will be normal soon so we can actually try to get Christmas cards out this year. Lots of love!

Pictures!

I have been really busy lately, and finally have the rest of the week off! Joseph was off of work the week before last so we soaked up as much family time as possible. We did a wedding that Monday, so I have spent the last 2 weeks editing my little heart out. It was so much work, but loads of fun! I reopened the studio last weekend after a 3 month leave. It was actually really nice to get back to it. I love what I do, and know I don't have to do it...so it's just fun! The boys are doing well, though I think Reagan is really ready for preschool to start back. And I think Mason may start preschool this year as well. I am feeling really conflicted and sad about it, but last year he would be upset when we left Reagan. He wanted to stay so badly. But while I think it would be great for him, I also know some time with mommy would be nice too. So, I think we are going to give it a try and if it doesn't work out then we will just pull him out. But I have a feeling he will love it, and hopefully it will help him become more social with kiddos his age. Brooklynne is doing amazing, I still can't believe she is already 10 weeks old! She smiles ALL the time and coos like crazy. Her little voice is just so pretty and girly! She is having some potty troubles, so we have been trying a few things the doctor recommended to help. I have added more fiber to my diet and it seems like it may be helping her, then it could be too early to tell. Oh, and she also has an umbilical hernia just like Mason did. It's not bad, probably will heal on its own in time. And she weighed 11lbs 10.5oz and was 22 3/4 inches at her 2 month visit two weeks ago. Just look at this chub....

That's all from us for now. Hope you are all doing well!!!