Like a Beacon of Light

The inevitable.  The unmanageable. The irrelevant.

It all consumes me lately.

E and I returned from our island getaway to a counter full of rocks {literally} and extra bratty children who weren't interested in ANYTHING other than what we brought them from our trip.  Not really the Norman Rockwell homecoming I had painted in my mind while we wistfully enjoyed our time without them.

The week that followed was genuinely painful.

Every night was a tug of war with exaggerated bedtimes and temper tantrums over tater tots.

Recommiting to our workloads was an absolute joke while we tried to gain our footing again at home.  Even as the laundry slowly got done and vegetables were being served it just wasn't working.  As I stated QUITE clearly on Friday morning . . .

"This week has sucked.  I am not going to work today.  We'll have a long weekend and it will all be better next week."

And I meant it with all my heart.  I took the day off and it was a long, wonderful weekend.  We made progress in organizing ourselves again and we had fun.  Monday morning was no problem.

Then reality crept right back in and made a joke of me and my declaration.

Camp was closed.

Work sucked. A lot.

Someone hit my car in the parking lot.  While it was parked.

What. On. Earth.

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

How exactly does life do that?  I said life would be all better next week and it's NEXT WEEK.  Shouldn't it be better? 

But it IS better and I almost forgot.

While I was languishing in a bubble bath last night gearing up for my better week, The Princess came in several times.  She couldn't sleep.  The scrape on her elbow was excruciating.  The noise from the crickets was too loud.  You name it.  The last time she came in she told me that the bulb went out in her lamp and she couldn't sleep without it.  I told her that we would fix it in the morning and to go to bed.  We didn't see her again.

This morning when I went to wake her up I found him.

My Beacon of Light.

He was groggy and I was on my way to the coffee maker.  I half heartedly asked him why he was there and why he had a flashlight in his hand.  He didn't respond immediately and I was on my way to the coffee maker.



On the way to camp I asked him again why he was sleeping in her room.

"Because she couldn't sleep without her lamp, Mom.  I brought my flashlight and slept with her."

Work will still suck tomorrow.  The car will get fixed. And camp will {I hope} open.  But if not one other thing in the world changes I will still be their Mom and they are good.

So, so good.