It’s almost midnight and I’m burning the candle at both ends. The only thing in this house working harder than me tonight is my coffee pot, which is purring and popping almost as if its protesting the overtime.
It’s been a rough few weeks. Heck, it’s been a rough few years. Yet, glorious. Indulgently glorious at times.
I wanted to share this photo I snapped tonight. We took it under the kitchen table, gathered around a strand of Christmas lights which we covered with red fabric to make a fire and “roasted” marshmallows. Before you think for a second that this was some creative, elaborate scheme, I’ll tell you that it was an act of total desperation. Ada was determined to dance on the kitchen table, which was covered with balloons and Walmart bags and a random strand of Christmas lights. Travis and I were at our wit’s end, facing tough decisions on little sleep and wrestling with our nearly two-year-old acrobat, who was dancing too close to the edge for our comfort. We went under the table, quite frankly, to hide, to give up on being grown-ups for just a bit. And you know, it worked. We giggled and ate too many marshmallows and remembered exactly what it is we’re fighting so damn hard for…
I probably won’t be around too much this week. I have a lot of editing ahead of me. But I did it. I wrote down every word that has danced around in my head since they brought my sweet girl to me for the first time. It has been the hardest thing to tell our story, to tell it so honestly and now that I’ve written it, I just have to get brave enough to let it out of my nest.
Sigh…I’ll worry about that tomorrow.