I live my life on the edge.
The edge of sanity, the edge of full joy, the edge of sadness.
I teeter precariously, sometimes leaning far over, one way or the other.
I don't dwell on it much, dwelling won't change anything.
I take action, I plan, I manage. I take joy when I can, deep breaths often, and cry occasionally.
And every so often, I'm able to move a little farther from that edge and breathe a little easier.
This week has been that for me. This week, Camp Grammie week, Marketplace week, has been God sent. My beautiful, wonderful, exhausting children have been with my mother since Sunday evening. I will welcome them home tomorrow, with open arms and a smiling face, and for a little while I will have more patience and more energy. I have had a lot of downtime this week, a massage, quiet time alone in my house, laying in the sun in my pool, and dinner dates with my husband. I have remembered what it's like to not live on the edge. I needed this. Desperately.
I have accepted that my life, with my children will never be easy. I manage them the best I can, and constantly pray for wisdom to make the right choices for them. I try not to complain, and not to ask for too much from others. I feel a tinge of guilt for taking this few days for myself, even though I know it was what I needed. I am blessed immensly by a mother that understands, offers, and takes over my burdens and blessings quite frequently.
I feel refreshed mentally, physically, and emotionally. It may be a year from now when I feel this good again, but right now, in this moment, I feel like I can make it til then.