We all have them. We all hate them,
And I get that they are good for us; trials make us stronger, they make us better, kinder people, but sometimes it would be nice to have a break from them. Am I right?
By the end of last week, I was done with my trials. I was tired of being their punching bag and I was exhausted from having to pick myself back up time and time again. I was so done with them that on Friday when the babes and I were doing our Costco run, I almost cried right there in the middle of the store when Harriet was fussing in her sling and Leif decided to break an egg all over our cart full of groceries. Yep, I was two seconds away from being that woman. I only stopped myself when I looked up from the slimy mess that was now covering everything to see Leif clapping his hands.
No baby, this is not a yay! moment. It's a mess.
I am sure Leif, who loves to cook with me, was just excited to finally be the one to crack the eggs. He had no idea how I was feeling inside. He had no idea that we did not need a cracked egg for grocery shopping. He had no idea this was not cool. Looking into his smiley face, I reminded myself that spilled eggs . . . or is that milk? . . . either way, neither are to be cried over, and so I pushed myself through the remainder of the day.
By Sunday afternoon, I was spent. I was done putting on a happy face. I was done taking care of everyone, and most of all I was done dealing with my challenges. So, after church, I handed the two-under-two crew to Mr. Level-Headed and the kids and went for a nap. Thankfully, there was a cool breeze blowing through my bedroom window because I was able to bury myself beneath the weight of my duvet and quickly drift off to sleep.
Is there anything better than a Sunday nap? I can't think of anything. Sunday naps are a gift from God; they nourish the soul and strengthen your body. When I woke up, I was not only feeling rested, but I was feeling rejuvenated and feisty once again.
Okay, Week, I am ready for you. BRING IT ON!
It also helped waking up to this round, squishy parcel of adorableness.
Oh, and my trials are not any of my babes, nor are they Mr. Level-Headed, and for that I am grateful.