Trial Week

There is no preparation for these weeks and every time I'm blindsided.  It's been a "trial" week in several senses of the word.  Quite literally, B is in trial.  Which means he's not home for dinner.  Or bathtime.  Or bedtime.  And when he gets here it's only to grab a bite to eat and maybe chat for a few minutes before settling back in to work for long after I go to bed.  Those things in and of themselves are a trial for our little family.  There's no one else going through this.  No support groups.  No informational meetings welcoming us to a life of loneliness.  Just kind friends on the phone (and a couple in person) who listen to this overwhelmed Mama babble on about whatever.  It's sad when you reach a state where you feel like you are actually friends with your children's pediatrician because she's the only adult you've had a face to face conversation with for two days.  And to top it all off, it's Easter weekend and he has duty and we have zero plans.  (Hello entire box of peeps that I did not mean to eat...)

But I don't want to mope.  This is the day that the Lord has made, and darn-it, I will (at least try to) rejoice and be glad in it.  My kids are a joy.  Els is sunshine wherever she goes and Miller's face could light up the sky when he sees me.  Plus, they've been napping at the same time for at least an hour every afternoon for the last couple of days.  I sure won't argue with that.  So, I will continue to hide Els' eggs in the living room because of the rain ("I'm pickin' eggs, Mama!) and we will continue to be very creative with leftovers and whatever food we happen to have in the fridge.

The veil was torn in two from top to bottom, so I am never really alone.

But they don't call them trials for nothing!