catching my breath

It's Sunday night. We've just gotten back from being at the cabin this weekend for the fall clean-up weekend, which was really more like a fall clean-up few hours while we snuggled with our new nephew, Will. It was somehow an incredibly busy weekend, now that there are nine (yes, nine!) grandkids, and yet we can only manage to actually leave the cabin a few times a day - and that takes so much out of us that the kids are usually begging us to let them nap. (Ok!)

And let's face it - the past few weeks have had a similar feel: the anxiety and euphoria of Maren's new preschool experience; Luke's newfound need to be held throughout each meal; Maren's incredibly frustrating new pattern of ignoring most everything I say until I threaten her with things that will ultimately mean more pain for me in the long run - like, "no Okee Dokee Brothers music when you go to bed unless you pick up your books." And she says, "Fine. Actually, I didn't want any Okee Dokee Brothers music tonight." Of course, when it finally comes time to go to bed, she has what we're now calling a "fit" (which leads to more unsuccessful bargaining) - so in the end it turns out that her room is messy AND she won't go to bed.

Hmmmmm.

Andy left for Denver for the week to do retreats... and I'm going to try and take this week to catch my breath.

Actually, that's probably not realistic now that I think about it.