It's been a week. Yes, it has been. One of those weeks where I am simply treading water. There are so many things I want to get done, but I can't make any forward progress. I'm not exactly drowning, but I'm certainly not swimming. Floundering a bit. Treading water.
We got back late on Sunday from our week-long road trip. For the record, I will never call a week-long road trip with four children a vacation. It just isn't. It is fun and memory making and definitely worth it, but it is not a vacation. Case in point: I didn't even get one book read. And another thing, as we were on our last 10-hour-day of driving, Elliot, perfecting his mental math, said, "If you add it all together, we've been driving for over one day. 10 + 10 + 5 + 2 + 3 + 1=31." To which I replied, "Then let's not do that, ok?"
So, we're home. Jim's been working some wacky hours. Moms on the Run started, hoooorrraaaaayyyyy!, and I had a baby on my hip or in a stroller through the entire class. (he was a rockstar, thankfully!) We must accomplish our school tasks, but the sun is shining and the bikes really want to be used. We've picked up lunch meat, sandwich veggies, fruit, and a few other necessities, but we still haven't actually grocery shopped since returning. Is scurvy still a thing? I fear I'll be able to tell you in a few days.
So it's nothing major. No catastrophe. Just the stuff of life that feels heavier some days than others. My heart feels heavy. Burdened by the hurt of others and the pain that seems to make the earth groan in despair. It's just a bunch of blah.
But I read this today and it felt like sunshine to my sorrowful soul. So I'm sharing it here in case you need some sunshine on your soul, too. Because it's National Infertility Awareness Week and there are a whole lot of women walking around with strength and courage and heartache. Because parents die too young and their grandkids only know them through stories. Because life hurts sometimes, but we are in it together.
Have a big, beautiful, lovely weekend.