Hurdles

When the world says, "Give up,"
Hope whispers, "Try it one more time." ~Unknown

I like to make plans. Maybe its due in part of my OCD nature, or maybe its because I grew up in a boating family that charted and plotted a course in the summer before undertaking it. Either way, I've grown up to be a planner. It helps to keep the anxiety away when I think I know what to expect. But its becoming more clear that I should have taken up a sport like track and field in high school instead of indulging in something safe and choreographed like the Drill Team I was on. Hurdles seem to be a common fixture in my life.

When my husband and I got married, we had a plan to stop at three kids. Plans changed after Scootch was born, and I found myself unable to function or leave the house without help. So we decided it would be best to change the plans and stop at two. We've made plans since then, we just recently tried to start up our own business, bought a car, and basically have tried to stick to the plans. Apparently, though, someone else has different plans for us.

Two Fridays ago, I just got confirmation that we'll be expecting baby #3 in December, despite the measures we went through to ensure a limit on our family numbers. The anti-anxiety medication I've been on will have to be stopped for the baby. I'll have to quit my day job and hope that we'll still survive without my additional income paying for the food and utility bills since the business isn't pulling in any money yet. And I'm already stressing over having to remove my kids from their wonderful school, and turning their days full of friends and learning into being walled up at home with an over-anxious mother.

Its hard to keep feeling like I can keep it together when so many things start spinning out of control at once. And as much excitement we're feeling over actually getting the 3 kids we originally planned for, the hurdles are looking a little daunting and numerous. But I'm hoping. I'm hoping that whoever changed our plans will also point us in the direction of the solutions. I'm hoping this is an experience that might help me recover some strength against my fears instead of further exiling me to the shadows of my anxieties.

I'm hoping that hope will prevail.

Bedknobs and Broomsticks

This is where the magic happens. (No, that's NOT where I'm headed, just keep reading!)
This is where dressing rituals become tickle matches, where fortresses are built, or rivers are explored. Where refuge is gained from scary sharks and alligators. Where sheets become cavern walls, or parachutes, or dresses, or bridal veils. Where pillows are seats, or airplane wings, or the coal car behind a train engine. This is where hiding in plain sight is still the best game, with only a thin sheet between you and the world that seems safer than the thickest steel wall. This is base when playing tag. Where mornings are started with giggles and peek a boo. Where talks are shared, and reprimands, and make-up kisses and cuddles. This is where sick restless nights are soothed into quiet daybeaks. Where daughters watch mothers transform into princesses before their very eyes.

This is where I lie awake at night and turn over my blessings in my mind.

This is, by far, my favorite place in the house.