I'm sitting here after an exhausting day of running errands back and forth, and in between times trying to get my son's room ready for his arrival from the hospital.
I sound like a mom-to-be.
I wish it was a nursery. I wish we could start over. In an odd way, it feels like that. He's being discharged from the hospital. I found this out on Friday. We had a very intense family council about the best way to handle this and now, here we are. I'm excited and nervous and scared. A lot of people have asked me, What if nothing has changed? And believe me, I have thought about that. The only answer I have is that this is a one step at a time thing. God is opening the doors, not me.
But yes, I am exhausted. My house looks like a bomb went off, full of shrapnel made out of Legos and Barbie dresses and plastic dinosaurs. I ache all over and my nose is stuffy. I want to crawl into bed and cover my head up and sleep and sleep.
But I sat down in this chair instead and thought, Rome wasn't built in a day. I hate cliches. "pretty as a picture" "cute as a button" "hotter than hell" I hate them...overused and so much a part of our vernacular that people don't pay attention to the way they actually sound. This time, though, it was appropriate. I can't do all this in one day. It would take a Roman army. I might get up from this chair again and move some things around and say that I did something.
Or I might just sit here and relax. After all, tomorrow is another day.
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