You ever had one of those mornings?

Mine started this morning at 2 a.m., after I had stayed up until midnight trying to meet a deadline for my web design business. Lately, I have found that the only time I can actually blog or design is after 10 pm, when the kids are all finally in bed. My husband, Joe, got home at 2 a.m. from work (nightshift) and decided he wanted me to carry on a conversation with him. I spent most of that time saying, “Huh?” cause I couldn’t stay awake. When he finally gave up and went to sleep, I was wide AWAKE. I laid there thinking about the design I was working on, for what felt like hours and finally drifted off.

Then, what felt like seconds later, I was startled awake by… STOMP, STOMP, STOMP… STOMP, STOMP, STOMP… STOMP, STOMP…



My 16 year old daughter, Sabrina is in the room directly above mine. She has hardwood floors (major mistake) and high heals on. Stomping from bedroom to bathroom every 2 minutes. (I kid you not.) This was at 6 a.m., Joe wakes up and says, “What the hell is going on?” So I crawl out of bed go to the bottom of the stairs and yell up at her to take her shoes off and stop doing laps from room to room. “Dad worked last night, remember?” A teenage, snarky, “OK” comes down the stairs at me.

So I’m up and do my morning routine, make Sophie’s lunch, scrounge for lunch money for the teens. Then at 7, I wake up Sophie, who, like her Momma, is NOT a morning person. She cries, EVERY morning. She just wants to stay in bed. She gets angry when I brush her hair and refuses to brush her teeth. This battle is daily and no matter how early this kiddo goes to bed, this is how our morning goes. Somewhere in the midst of this, my 14 year old son decides that this lovely hat rack…



… that I just put in my foyer and have yet to blog about… was sturdy enough to hold his 5 foot 6 inch, 100+ pound body weight… Why?

Out it came, molly screws and all. Imagine 2 huge holes in the drywall. As he was trying to put it back on the wall, all I could say was, “Put it on the floor and walk away.” I was seeing red at this point.

We piled into the van, Sophie fighting every step of the way, refusing to wear her glasses today because her nose hurts… We drove the 15 min to Sabrina’s school then down the road to Sophie’s. Kaleb is the only one who rides the bus because he is the only kid I have in the local school district. 3 kids, 3 different schools. I would explain but this post is going on forever and I don’t want to bore you too much. I do have a point… or at least I think I do.

So after I drop off the girls, I hit the coffee stand, my vise. Totally not on my diet and I have been avoiding it for months, but today I deserve a treat and I really, really need the caffeine.



As I am digging through my purse at the coffee stand, hoping I still have some cash, I take a closer look at my little pink purse. The one I’ve been carrying for the last month. It’s too small but it’s the one I bought to remind me of Cindy. The one that is suppose to hit me on the head and fill me with gratitude.

And it hit me. I gave the girl at the stand my cash with huge tears in my eyes and she probably thinks I have gone completely MAD and maybe I have, I don’t know. But at that moment I was so grateful for my life and my crazy family that I just popped. I pulled my mini van along side the road and sat there and wept. Why?



You all know Donna at Funky Junk Interiors, right? Cindy was her nephew’s wife. Mother of 2. She lost her battle with cancer with less than 2 weeks notice and well, every since then, I’ve been carrying that little pink purse to remind myself how precious life and family is. I cannot imagine not having my crazy husband who wants to talk to me at 2 am or my crazy, inconsiderate, loveable kids. I cannot imagine these babies growing up without their Mother or this man being on his own. So I wept, for my life and for hers.

Life is so precious. Sometimes we need a reminder. I know I do. Thank you Donna and you Cindy for reminding me.