Life
This day is stinking it up.
Six hours of baby, crying, and crying, and crying, and then, for an added touch, crying.
Two meals I think I might have eaten: Cold oatmeal? Check. Cold leftover meatballs in a bag. Check.
Two fits from a 4 year old who caaaaaannn't put away her clothes and caaaaannnnt take off her sock. One was normal-ish. One was epic.
Zero schoolwork done.
Zero hours of baby sleeping.
Sixteen thousand songs from Raffi and Rainbow Brite and gaaaahh.
One episode of Mommy sending EVERYBODY to their rooms.
One Mommy meltdown.
Two big apologies.
And I'm beat.
So, I stuff Sparky moaning in the bed. (Is he tired? Please?) Then as I'm stuffing chocolate down my face, I remember.
Today is January 22. On this day, we do penance and pray and remember all the babies who barely lived, were never wanted, and were ripped out of their mother's wombs to die.
And I am so ashamed of complaining. I am ashamed of my frustration with my warm, alive, and wanted baby. I am ashamed of my angry words at these little girls that I love so very much.
I'll do this day. I'll make this penance. I'll soothe and hold with aching arms for the women whose arms will never know this joy. I'll say gentle words that bring trust and smiles to little faces for the millions of faces that will never in this life look with trust or smile at their parents.
Today is a day to remember our nation's tragedy: unwanted, unvalued, unrespected life. I will fight that evil by wanting, and valuing and respecting the lives that are around me.
Six hours of baby, crying, and crying, and crying, and then, for an added touch, crying.
Two meals I think I might have eaten: Cold oatmeal? Check. Cold leftover meatballs in a bag. Check.
Two fits from a 4 year old who caaaaaannn't put away her clothes and caaaaannnnt take off her sock. One was normal-ish. One was epic.
Zero schoolwork done.
Zero hours of baby sleeping.
Sixteen thousand songs from Raffi and Rainbow Brite and gaaaahh.
One episode of Mommy sending EVERYBODY to their rooms.
One Mommy meltdown.
Two big apologies.
And I'm beat.
So, I stuff Sparky moaning in the bed. (Is he tired? Please?) Then as I'm stuffing chocolate down my face, I remember.
Today is January 22. On this day, we do penance and pray and remember all the babies who barely lived, were never wanted, and were ripped out of their mother's wombs to die.
And I am so ashamed of complaining. I am ashamed of my frustration with my warm, alive, and wanted baby. I am ashamed of my angry words at these little girls that I love so very much.
I'll do this day. I'll make this penance. I'll soothe and hold with aching arms for the women whose arms will never know this joy. I'll say gentle words that bring trust and smiles to little faces for the millions of faces that will never in this life look with trust or smile at their parents.
Today is a day to remember our nation's tragedy: unwanted, unvalued, unrespected life. I will fight that evil by wanting, and valuing and respecting the lives that are around me.
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