Pressed for Time

Loveys, do you ever feel panicked? I have a deadline on Monday. It's making me feel rather panicked at the moment. I'm not ready for it. The truth is that I seem to have things to do in every direction I look. And when I look down, I just see this growing baby belly. And my hands feel swollen tonight.

I'm tired just now.

I was up late last night working, and I most likely will be up late working Saturday and Sunday as I try to hit this deadline. Also, I keep having distracting thoughts of gingerbread cookies. Do you know I love gingerbread cookies, lovey? Well, I do. Who knows why. I didn't grow up eating them. I am fairly certain my mother has never made a gingerbread cookie. But I like them and I want one (or ten) really bad.

My hair is still wet from my shower, and I'm feeling like I wish bedtime had gone smoother tonight. Jeff wasn't here, and I had to tell small people to brush their teeth and get into bed more times than I should have to, and it made me very frustrated. You know how it goes. Then after the fact that no one has been listening, those same small people want you to tell them a bedtime story. At which point, you are just unable to be rational. I know bedtime stories are good things. But not when no one has listened to you and your hands are swollen and you feel panicked.

I'm so glad tomorrow's Friday. Even if I'm pressed for time. Even if this weekend will consist of a lot of work for me. Even so. I'm ready for Friday, and my chances of getting a gingerbread cookie will look better.

It's been frigid here in Colorado, loveys. Truly. So cold. And it's been sort of an emotional couple of days for me with so much on my mind. Heavy thoughts, in some cases--worry for friends who are sick, and fear of so much that can go wrong for all of us. Then just the pressure of work looming over me and much to do. Then other things that overwhelm me or are unexpected. (Did I mention I had another tragic bangs cut? Seriously. Enough to make a pregnant woman weepy and wonder why no one understands her when she says, Not that short.)

So it's Thursday night and I'm thinking to myself, Sometimes I'm just not enough.

Sometimes I'm not going to finish in time. Some days bedtime is going to make me a crazy person. Sometimes frozen dinners from a box are going to be part of our life, and I will pretend I don't see all the laundry. Sometimes I need quiet and time to myself but it doesn't happen.

But then, sometimes it does. And if I'm not enough then . . . well, I suppose there are worse things. I might finish, I might not. I might have the energy to cook dinner tomorrow, I might order pizza. I might have to push through the weariness for another several days before I feel calm and rested. All of that can be done, and has been done before.

The heat just kicked on in my house. I'm home. Warm. Safe. My bedtime-story-less children are sleeping soundly across the hallway. Jeff is here now. I was able to have lunch with two of my sweet girlfriends today and that was a boost. I picked up a good book from the library.

Life is filled with stress and blessings. Both come and go at any time. It's a matter of holding on to who we are in the middle of it, I think. It's a matter of letting our shoulders rise and fall and saying, If I'm not enough this week, I just have to trust that God is.

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