Monday, Monday. Sometimes they're good, but most of the time I'd rather skip them altogether.
We moved down to Florida knowing James would work very long hours in a very intense, high-stress environment where egos run amuck. He averages an 11-hour workday. That means Mama sometimes has to have wine before 6pm to hold her over until Daddy gets home, or until the girls fall asleep.
I was very busy feeling overwhelmed by my case of the Mondays all day. Isabella was giving me a hard time about school work and Paloma decided she wants to only nap once a day.
Once the girls fell asleep I was busy rotting my brain on Facebook and saw my step-niece's status update, asking for donations for two families that lost everything, even their cars, in a fire. One father ran back into his home to rescue the dog and neither him or the dog made it out alive. Click here for an update on the story.
I clicked on the link. Browsing the local news site for more information on how or where to donate, I saw an article about a little girl whose body was discovered in a dumpster. No cause of death had been immediately available, but the article did note that the girl, 7-years-old, had been missing for a few days, had been severely beaten, and, been sexually assaulted.
James and I wrote a check to the families in Colorado and I prayed for the little girl's family, and was oddly moved to pray for her killer. That was a first for me. Usually I just hope they rot in hell and move on.
Child and animal neglect and abuse are the most sickening, gut-wrenching crimes to me. It's something that's even difficult for me to read about or watch on the news. However, reading the stories brought a sobering, humbling perspective to my self-centered, "woe is me!" frame of mind.
God's blessed us so much. It's so easy to forget, especially when days are long, the kids aren't obeying my exact orders and poor Hannah just needs to go out once more to pee, right when I want to sit and take a breath.
It's motherhood. It's raising a family. It's hard work. If my ankle bitters, dog and husband all went away tomorrow, you'd have to spoon-feed me Prozac with a side of Adderall to have me even consider taking another breath without them by my side.