If only all the monsters still lived under the bed.
My daughter couldn’t sleep last night. We had kind of a rough evening. After a strenuous two hour math homework marathon with my son, I ordered a pizza, and the kids and I sat around the table discussing our high’s and our low’s of the day as we do every night at dinner, but I wasn’t engaged. I was irritable, the weight of the world heavy on my shoulders. I was short with both kids, not at my parenting best.
Rushed showers and stories and prayers, and the kids were off to bed. I poured a glass of wine and sat on the couch to lose myself in the lives of the Orange County housewives, watched the news, and then went to bed. Pretty uneventful.
Around eleven, my daughter came into my room half in a sleep walk haze and said she was scared. After the normal “Everything is okay…
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