Bedtime Tango

bedtimetango

My daughter doesn't like to go to bed. Well, no, let me revise my previous statement. She loves to go to BED, but hates to go to SLEEP.

Laying her down has become a testy tango. I lay her down, she pretends to go to sleep, opens her door, pushes out the bottom of the baby gate, army crawls under it, and begins to create disasters.

I'm at my wits' end, and it's starting to show. I went to pour a cup of coffee, and poured it on the counter instead. I didn't even realize it until the boiling hot coffee hit my bare foot. Did I acknowledge the fact that I'd been coating the counter with java? No. Instead, I marveled at how much I needed a pedicure.

I'm exhausted. I'm stressed. I'm frustrated. I just don't have the time or energy for anything. Yet I pray,

“Spackle the stress fractures of my patience with your love. Cleanse the stains of frustration from my voice. Wipe the crayon-textured exhaustion from under my eyelids, and dissolve the caked-on blinders of distraction from my judgment.”

Little rest for me this weekend, but plenty of time to do the toddler tango.

READ MORE...from the Extended Feature!
BONUS! - BEDTIME TANGO PART TWO

- Lauren Nelson

Long Way Home

I heard the call many moons ago,
but turned away to 'find myself.'
Thank You for going to all this trouble,
to sculpt me in skin and sinew,
to wait patiently as I came back into the fold
You took me the long way home,
so I could reach my own conclusions.
Let me be all I can,
and thank You with my life.
Please, today and every day,
be in my heart as I find my way.