Crying Over Spilled Milk

Yes, it has been one of those weeks. Normal life presents us with the usual challenges of getting to work on time, making sure everyone is fed (and eats what they are fed), making sure we all have clean (enough) clothes to wear, and oh yes, trying to remember to pay that pile of bills sitting under the coloring books. This week we also took on a ridiculous house cleaning project (where everything came out of the cupboards and about an hour later we felt like giving up) in preparation for our house guests arriving. Oh, did I forget to mention that this was going on while trying to stick to our $20 dollars a day spending limit (while having guests???) and while having a very sick toddler who was running a 102 fever? Well as our guests pulled away early this morning, I began a premature pat on the back telling myself “good job for holding it all together” - especially as this morning our toddler seemed inconsolably miserable. So when our little boy went for a nap I dreamed of the quiet-time to reassemble our lives - that is until I heard this terrible crying from our toddler’s room, only to run in and see him standing on an island of a soggy book, surronded by a sea of milk that he must have smuggled with him to bed. An hour later, the washing machine going, all the tea towels dirtied, no errands done, but finally with a little peace, I had to shed a few tears over that spilled milk and the thought of a sick little boy covered in it.