We’ve all been hit with a bit of the sniffles this week in our house. Which has resulted in missed work, kids with runny noses, babies that are thrown off their sleep schedules, a Mama who can’t sleep because her nose is so stuffed up (I even tried those breath strips thingies. Didn’t work.) lots of crying and whining and a return of a feeling I had when our little ones were newborns: dread for the nighttime with its unpredictable events. A baby crying, someone waking up thirsty, someone is hot, or cold, or a 3-year-old is in our bed who is like liquid, filling up every space you vacate as you happen to turn onto your side, resulting in not being able to flip back.
But at the same time, have you ever in your life been this comfortable? The kids have taken to making “nests” in the middle of the living room floor.
Days like these remind me of this poem that I saw on a Cup of Jo awhile back:
“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.” ― poem by Mary Jean Irion