Mary Jean Iron: 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
Apparently the snow isn’t thawing until Wednesday at the earliest. Our nursery is closed, my children are way too young to entertain themselves, both my husband and I have a backlog of work. The house is full of toys and noise and pent-up energy.
Stressed doesn’t even begin to describe it.