This week has been rough. Mike's been working so hard and long that he practically falls into bed after arriving home. Last night tears fell as I rocked Ollie to sleep for the third time, dreaming of crawling under freshly washed sheets and resting my tired body. Just as I gently placed him in the crib I was interrupted by my five year old who came to tell me he had just puked all over his bed. I changed his bedding while the baby screamed, then sat in the rocker and started all over again. Shortly after crawling into bed my sweet toddler woke with a nightmare. It was well past midnight before I even fell asleep and the rest of my night was spent jumping at the first sound of dry heaves, nursing the baby, and sharing my half of the bed with my preschooler. I woke exhausted to Mr. Stannix kissing me good-bye for the day and my four year old asking for breakfast.
As I go through another day of mothering, mopping up puke, and giving comfort there is a feeling of loneliness in the back of my mind. But when my sweet children smile at me, wrap their arms around my neck, tell me a funny joke, or ask me to sit with them "just a little bit longer mommy" that feeling of loneliness fades and becomes replaced with swells of love for these little blessings that I get to learn from each and every day.
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