Okay, folks -- in light of ACTUAL urgent prayer needs, I have the most mundane of all possible prayer requests. It's for me.
Ever read Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day? Yep. Well, you shoulda been at my house today. Australia was looking better and better by the minute. In the immortal words of Jimmy Buffett, "the doggies were a-yellin', the children were a-bitin'....". I am bulbous as a beach ball (baby #6 is due later this month) and just as slow, the top of my desk has disappeared beneath the layers of an avalanche of papers and "things to do", and The Shriek Scale (both for me and the kids) seems to be rising exponentially.
I'm almost looking forward to a trip to the hospital for extreme pain just to get away. After all, you get room service once the baby's born, right?
A wise woman, however (...okay, it was Amy M.), told me never to make homeschool decisions in February. Today being the last day for that injunction, I opted (with great difficulty) not to quit, but instead fed the children (didn't I just feed them yesterday?) and read to them and tucked them in w/ my strained smile and their genuine, strong, tiny, warm little hugs (....*sigh*....okay, so THAT was the good part of the day).
So. For whining publicly like this amidst my innumerable blessings, I suppose I've just earned at least another 10 years in purgatory (assuming I even make it that far). Anyone willing to toss up a few Hail Marys for me will be my hero (and my children's)! And have my eternal gratitude.
No, really. I mean it. Even in Australia.
With Love, Gratitude, and Great Mortification,
Ever read Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day? Yep. Well, you shoulda been at my house today. Australia was looking better and better by the minute. In the immortal words of Jimmy Buffett, "the doggies were a-yellin', the children were a-bitin'....". I am bulbous as a beach ball (baby #6 is due later this month) and just as slow, the top of my desk has disappeared beneath the layers of an avalanche of papers and "things to do", and The Shriek Scale (both for me and the kids) seems to be rising exponentially.
I'm almost looking forward to a trip to the hospital for extreme pain just to get away. After all, you get room service once the baby's born, right?
A wise woman, however (...okay, it was Amy M.), told me never to make homeschool decisions in February. Today being the last day for that injunction, I opted (with great difficulty) not to quit, but instead fed the children (didn't I just feed them yesterday?) and read to them and tucked them in w/ my strained smile and their genuine, strong, tiny, warm little hugs (....*sigh*....okay, so THAT was the good part of the day).
So. For whining publicly like this amidst my innumerable blessings, I suppose I've just earned at least another 10 years in purgatory (assuming I even make it that far). Anyone willing to toss up a few Hail Marys for me will be my hero (and my children's)! And have my eternal gratitude.
No, really. I mean it. Even in Australia.
With Love, Gratitude, and Great Mortification,
I Thank You!
