I am in a quiet house this afternoon. Mike went out with Abby, Sarah, Abraham and Emily to
bring Sarah to her horse bike riding lesson, make a delivery for the business, go to the post
office, the library, and finally do some food shopping.
Here I work on wood burning ornament after ornament and realizing that my little tantrum
earlier was so unfounded. Why is it so easy to think that I am everything for my family and
let guilt build up when work piles up and I am not as available to everyone
as I would like? I think that is what is called pride - like the children really aren't
capable of doing quite well with more self-direction and with more time spent with Mike.
Who I am to think that what I do is so very special anyway? Of course I love it when I can
do special things with them, assist them with their endeavors, play another game of
Candy Land (again!), read another story, etc.. Also, everyone will survive just fine on simple
meals. No one will notice how dirty the house really is thanks to these dark days.
And I will get over myself and realize how blessed I am to have all that I have.
To be able to have a piece of pumpkin pie (my last pumpkin of the year) and tea and to come
here and write - to go outside and trudge through the snow to do a bit of shoveling, checking
on the animals and to walk down and get the mail, and to stop to bring firewood in off the porch
to feed the wood stove - all pure joy.
But now I really must get back to the wood burning and the packaging and when Mike gets
home I will apologize for my little fit earlier and thank him for all he does.