This morning we heard the news that last night, a 4-month-old baby was pronounced dead after having been left in a car all day.

It reminded me of a simple truth I often forget: my babies need me. And not just in a, “Aww! Let Mama kiss your boo-boo!” sort of way. They literally need me.

What do I do all day? Change diapers. Feed little people. Apply sunscreen. Put down for naps. Wipe noses. Change more diapers.

So simple. So simple it can seem mundane. So simple that it gets confused with so insignificant. So simple, our mocking culture tells us, “Anyone can do that. Why are you wasting your life?”

So simple, I forget: for these two little boys, this simple care is literally life and death. They’re alive, fed, rested, healthy because I am doing the simple things.

I hear about situations of gross negligence, and my perspective for the whole day is changed. Suddenly, it’s a privilege to change a diaper, to give my child a clean bottom. Do you know that he would be covered with filth if I didn’t? Do you know that he needs me? I reach up into the cupboards and assemble pb&j for Jameson, and realize, he would literally starve without this simple care.

A few days ago, William had a little blip in his usual routine where he suddenly did not want to be nursed to sleep. Instead, he wanted to be wrapped just so, held just so, rocked just so. And as I laid his sleeping body in his basket, the thought popped into my head that I am the only human being on the planet who knows just what my little baby needs to go to sleep. I hold that secret — and it’s not a little thing. He needs me.

This is not nothing. This is not a waste. This is not insignificant. This is about giving my children life.

What a privilege!