I was upstairs making the bed. Baby girl was quiet. I should have known she was up to something.
She *adores* the dishwasher and is constantly trying to climb into it so she can play with every thing. Most of the time, the Chief Parent in Charge of Wee Ones can keep her out.
This time, I failed. (But look how happy she is!)
I guess I am bit distracted by the fact the movers are coming tomorrow at 8:00 a.m. and I don't have a single thing packed up and ready to go. Most of the things are items we use everyday so it's not like I could have done a lot of prep but still...my brain feels like mush. I have a list but that list seems to be getting longer every time I walk past it.
It doesn't help that I stayed up last night until 1:00 a.m. bawling big ol' ugly Oprah style tears about something over which I have no control. My head hurts this morning and I feel very fractured. I am trying to pull it together but not having much success. My soul hurts.
I am trying to remember that the shadow of God's grace covers even this situation and that His plan is always better than mine but I am having a tough go of it this morning.
At least I have her to make me smile, right?