Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Foggy Days

It's been awhile since I posted, and it'll probably be a while until I post again after this.

You see, my house has been living under this oppressive fog for the last few days.

And I'm not talking about the weather. It is beautiful and sun-shiny and relative warm (40's) here on my side of the state, but we can't enjoy it. Not this week.

We're sick.

The girls have this nasty barking-cough-slash-runny-nose cold that happens to be going around out here. And there are few things worse than a baby with a cold.

So, why the fog?

I'm getting it, too. My head is cloudy, my throat is dry, my nose is stuffy, and my eyes are drooping.

The worst thing is that this is, of course, a very busy week in our little palace.

I have school work to finish that should have been turned in last Friday to guarantee grading in time for the term to end next week. We have a wedding to go to this Friday evening that will require us to stay the night at my husband's cousin's house (which will be a blast, though!).

Oh foggy days! Go away soon! Stop plaguing us with your coughing and sneezing; leave us alone for good and don't come back a week later, like you are wont to do. Let us enjoy this rare sunshine and "warm" weather. Be gone!

Somehow, I don't think it listened, or cared.

Excuse me while I wipe my nose...and Cinderella's...and Sleeping Beauty's...

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Living with Sleeping Beauty...

...is like living with a ringwraith. She's figured out how to scream.

And scream she does.

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...is like living with a bottomless pit. She will eat, and eat, and eat, and ...

Except veggies. She doesn't really like her veggies.











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...is like living with a steamroller. Or a bulldozer.



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...is like living with precious cargo. As much as I want to protect her, she needs to be free to learn and explore.

Lord, keep my precious little one safe!

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Frustration and Faith

I spent most of yesterday afternoon in tears.

Seriously. In tears.

The girls weren't sleeping. Sleeping Beauty slept maybe 10 minutes total yesterday (and I mean, maybe), spent most of her nap times crying, and just would not settle. Nothing worked; nursing, rocking, leaving her in crib, nothing.

On top of this, my school work for my math/teaching degree completely floored me. I couldn't figure it out. I have 2 weeks to finish everything so I can turn it in for grading before my term ends, and I was frustrated and confused.

I'm not used to this. Math has always come very easily for me. And this isn't even NEW stuff; it's what I learned way back when in high school.

Unfortunately, high school was 12 years ago, and I didn't have to take math in college. Yea for AP credits!

So, here's a real-life math equation for you:

kids not sleeping + unsolvable math problems = ?

Any guesses? Anyone?

Answer: tears of frustration.

I was so upset yesterday afternoon that I even resorted to railing at God (I'm pretty sure He thinks this is okay, so I didn't feel too bad about it later).

I was mad at Him: He could have done something. He could have caused my girls to sleep. He could have let me stumble upon the right website that would clearly explain my math problems.

He could have done a lot of things I wanted Him to, but He didn't.

And I desperately wanted Him to!

Instead, He chose to let me deal with it. He chose to remain silent and watchful. He chose to teach me how to deal with the adversity I was perceiving.

He chose not to come to my rescue. He chose to let me rescue myself.

And I did.

I figured out my math (I think). At least to the point where I could submit it and hope the grader will direct me further.

I allowed Cinderella to get out of her bed and watch a movie next to me so I could keep working.

I took Sleeping Beauty out of her crib, cuddled her, and let her play on the floor by me.

I forgave God for not helping me. Then I repented of my anger and asked Him to forgive me.

I'm pretty sure He did.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Super Bowl Sunday

Prince Charming just got invited to a Super Bowl party. For men only.

Sooooo not fair!