When I got home this morning, I discovered that Florianus had escaped from his kennel and absolutely ransacked the house. There was trash from the front door to the back door (including about a week's worth of coffee grounds strewn hither and yon), torn up toilet paper was littered everywhere, and one of my tennis shoes was completely filled with urine. This made me crabby. Steve entered the door a few minutes later covered in ink and bearing tales of a woeful night of work complete with lazy coworkers and a difficult supervisor. Fun stuff.
But there is nothing quite like climbing back into bed after venting these frustrations, snuggling up until the sheets get warm, and feeling all of the stress melt away as we enjoy the peace that comes from being together. There is nothing quite like watching my sweet husband quickly drift off into well-deserved sleep, leaving me alone to lie there thinking and praying. There is nothing quite like being shocked into near-laughter by the purposeful kick of the Baby. Today I'm grateful for the blessing of our little morning "bedtime" routine and the peace and joy that it affords in an otherwise chaotic time.
(I'm in the picture somewhere...we need to get back into the swing of self-portraits. :-))
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