It's been something of a rough week for us, here. Circumstances made it such that I've had to hold the fort on my own more than usual and the resulting exhaustion serves as a convenient excuse for my having backed into someone's car on Wednesday afternoon. The gentleman whose car it was, was very gracious about it and the damage wasn't extensive, but we did have to make a claim to our insurance. Ugg.
Add to this, that these prayers have yet to be clearly answered and something for which we were hoping in that regard came back this week as a closed door. Not the end of the world for sure, but a disappointment none the less. There have also been stresses related to taxes and bills and such mix ups with these, that I will say it is none of it our fault and spare you the tedious details.
Did I mention we had broken glass in the house this week? Twice? And then, when I thought the week was finally over, poor Alex started a stomach bug that's sure to bless us all. Fluids for Mother's Day... like we had for Valentine's Day. It does seem to be to be the language of love. Sigh.
Just when the week's discouragements began to join forces against me, I heard a soft little voice at my feet,
Nicholas was holding up Leo Lionni's A Color of His Own, hoping that I wasn't too busy to read it to him. I dropped everything for that moment and welcomed the invitation into Nicholas' little world--the world of carpets and sippy cups, toy cars and board books. It is a simple world, a colorful world and the problems there-- I can manage; I can change a diaper, give a drink, read a book, kiss an owie, push a swing. I find such refreshment there when the rest of life becomes overwhelming. The beauty of it, too, is that this isn't escapism, this is my job and my duty to be with these little ones and share a life with them. How simple. How refreshing. How good.