Today has been a little rough. Let just say one of the highlights was finding out that only one matchbox car was flushed down the toilet full of poo.
As loose as my routine is, I sort of thrive off of it. So when a constant wrench is thrown in I break. The constant wrench currently is the 3yo not wanting to nap, but being awful due to lack of sleep. I like my afternoons to myself. And while I know that it won't always be so. I know I will have to carve in me time otherwise, this is how its been for almost 3 years give or take. I liked it, it refreshed me. It made the day something that I could finish well instead of barely hanging on.
I'm reading more of this One Thousand Gifts book. And sometimes its easier to apply it to someone else's life than your own. I could totally see a friend's situation yesterday as something that the hard thanks can be seen. That the trust, the joy is still there. But for me with the screaming in my face and me wanting to kick him across the room (I didn't btw, in case you were wondering), I fail to see it. It just raises my blood pressure and causes me angst and to be mindlessly angry.
But there is something to be thankful for. I may not see it but its there. Maybe its that a little boy is really growing, that he is ready for the next step in life. Maybe he's developing a new skill one that will hopefully help him in life. Maybe its just for me to know that life is okay not the way I want it to be. That the wrench is okay, its God maybe saying, "Trust me. I will carry you through." But I am tired, and it falls deaf on me in the heated moments. But maybe, just maybe I can thank and trust and just not react next time. I will pray and hope at least.