Grateful Acres

I discovered it one day while washing her hands after playing in the dirt. Daddy noticed too, and we made note to show it to the doctor at our next appointment. A few months went by, and it grew. A wart began to rear it's ugly head right at the base of her sweet, painted nail. It was the kind that grows outward with columns that arrogantly boast their appearance, and she began to shield it. We tried a few things to discourage it's growth, but grow it did. It often caught on things, so we bought Frozen bandaids, and she felt a little safer with it covered. The bandaid had to be just-so, and she developed little habits and preferences to protect her hurt finger. Our doctor suggested squeezing lemon juice on it (who woulda thunk??), and that started to work. It began to shrink and come a little loose. She came crying into the kitchen a few times with it bleeding because it had caught and torn as she was playing. She had gotten so used to having a little owie to protect

My baby who always sleeps well, did not sleep well. His round, sweet little body wanted to be squished up next to mine. The night was short, my dear husband worked early, and the troops have more energy than their commander. I wanted to sink into the couch, even before coffee, and sail away to slumber for the morning. That's not practical or worth it, on a Thursday morning. The troops sense I'm dragging and they speed up. There's mess from all the fun we've had, and it brings me anxiety that threatens to overshadow the memories. I can't find my favorite nursing cover, and the beautiful baby settles in for a nap. The troops want to swim, and my head swims too- its hot already and my brain is foggy like the summer smoke that rolled in last night. I'm supervising a dip in our cold hot tub, but my heart is pining over a school year unfinished and a home that refuses to meet my unrealistic standards of tidiness. My heart thinks an impossible move to the count