My husband's home... he's home. You know, the one that's been living in southern California for the past 9 months. Nine loooooong months of single parenting, testing our marriage, my patience and making learn to how to be a better mom all on my own. But last night at around he walked through the door at around 8:15p and there were two very excited little girls and one big one.
These past two weeks have been hard. Scarlet fever for the three kids, strep for me and I think maybe in my head I knew the end was coming. I was done, finished. My on-going joke is that I'd given up my patience for lent, but that is how I felt. It felt no matter how much I gave to the kids it was never enough, no one was listening and I've felt drained physically and emotionally.
Maybe this is supposed to be my lesson for this lentin season, that my cup or soul or whatever will have time to heal from this time. That by the time this six weeks is over I will have been revived, reborn and found myself again.
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