I’m in bed with my laptop. The girls are both asleep next to me, snoring and hogging the blankets. I think I am going to get to sleep for something like 8 whole hours, and even though I am going to bed with a couple of dishes in the sink and a living room that looks like, well, maybe a mix between Lord of the Flies and Toys R Us, I totally do not care because I am So Very Tired that sleep sounds better than Christmas.
Things are better. I should say that I am better. My attitude is better. Nothing’s really changed, but I’m looking at it all with a more relaxed and forgiving pair of eyeballs. Because, really, all that stress wasn’t making it better, but adjusting my response to the hard stuff in my life sure has.