You know what?

{I snapped that picture in Bangor; I knew my boys would love it, because you add poop into the conversation and it instantly makes it funny.  Poop is tossed about daily in conversations in this house.  They love poop in conversations.  Boys are gross.}

Alright!  Guess what?  I’m tired.  Like, bone tired.

Yesterday, I just hit that point…that all-of-the-sudden-woah-I-need-a-BREAK point.  Baby still keeps me hopping at night.  And during the day, he needs entertainment.  In your arms entertainment.  I’m too good for the swing/jumperoo/cool chair thingy so I won’t last 3 minutes in them entertainment.  I love it when you hold me but please don’t put me in your two expensive baby carrier’s because while I want to be cuddled, I don’t want to be confined entertainment.

And my precious older boys are loud.  And have loud toys.

And Erick, while he finished his Master’s and was able to drop a significant part of his job responsibilities, started a new job a couple of weeks ago (transferring from teaching career prep to History) and became the Key Club advisor this year.  So he pretty much just traded busy for busy, when I was hoping he was trading busy for less busy.

So last night I told Erick that I just needed…sleep.  And quiet and clean (our house is…not clean).  And a break.  I needed a bit of a break.  So this morning, I tromped over to mom and dad’s with the babe, and it was beautiful and spring like and the snow was gone.  GONE!  And mom said “take a date today!  Go!  Flee! We’ll watch the boys!” so I ran home to shower…and got the call that you never want to get.  Ugh.  It was mom, saying that Grandma was in very.bad.shape and they needed to fly to New Mexico.  So of COURSE drained mommma worries are nothing…and I mean NOTHING in comparison to that.  But I traded tired for concern…concern for my grandma, for my parents, for my uncle and grandpa…concern all around.  Actually, it wasn’t exactly a trade…it was just concern added to tired.

So yeah, prayers would be ultimate at this point.  Mom and dad can’t fly out until the morning.  The last word I heard on grandma was that her stomach was pumped (she has a bowel obstruction) but they couldn’t track down her doc to schedule surgery…this morning we didn’t think she was going to make it; right now she is a bit more comfortable but not out of the woods.  I know my uncle must be exhausted.  And my grandpa…geesh.  It’s just one of those times of life, friends.  But I have learned in my mere 31 years on earth that God can produce beauty out of chaos.  He’s proved that time and again.

I won’t be tired forever.  And this is NOT all about me; again, comparisons pale.  I’m dealing with what every momma deals with.  And we trudge through it.  It’s like…joyful exhaustion.  Sometimes the joy comes easier than other times…but it’s always there.  It’s just this sin-tinged life.  Sick grandma’s.  Sleepless babies.  But it won’t be this way forever; there is great assurance in that.

But poop on Satan anyway. 

Poop on him good!

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