Autumn, where did you come from? I’m home again and working on my Board work. I’m actually making a dent which is refreshing. I had a cup of coffee this morning with pumpkin spice creamer (completely unaware that it was the first day of Fall…..I hadn’t had my coffee yet). I sent the boys to daycare and preschool this morning, Aiden feeling a little under-the-weather but still joy filled as he is. I had to send them. I...

I don’t always “schedule” it like I should. You have to schedule it — grief that is. I can’t conjure my emotions or an emotional response, however, and so scheduling grief isn’t always easy and sometimes, well, it just comes. I’m at home working on my Board of Ordained Ministry work today (and not getting far). It’s a beautiful day outside and the boys are at preschool/daycare. It’s quiet....

This is what I have. This is why I can actually say, “Having kids wrecked my body.” And it hurts. It hurts in a lot of ways. It hurts when I look in the mirror and my “image issues” scream, “Oh my goodness! Are you 6 months pregnant?!” It hurts about midway through the day when I’ve been on my feet awhile and my stomach muscles start to feel the strain. It hurts when one of the children knees me...

It’s a bit of a paradox. When I work a Saturday, and often I do (I will this week and half the day next Saturday), I try to compensate (for my children and for my long-term health) by taking the following Monday “off.” The idea is rest or play or housework or maybe a trip ‘down south’ to see my dad. That day is good. It’s needed. It’s healing. But……Sunday still comes. Actually Tuesday comes...