My little gift
I had a hard start to my week. I was feeling sad and discouraged. Nothing serious, but just kind of blue. And tired. Oh so tired. On Thursday morning, my otherwise incredibly cheerful son threw a temper tantrum at breakfast. He hadn't gone to sleep until pushing 9:00 the night before, and woke up just after 6:30 that morning. More teeth were being cut, less interest in being, well, himself. I didn't know what to do. So I went outside with him. We walked and walked and walked, which is an odd thing for us because our neighbourhood is actually sort of ugly. It's rather industrial looking, with the sights and sounds being the bridge overhead, a U-Haul drop-off across the street, and a few car dealerships. Oh yes, and a short drive from a prison. {In case you're wondering, we chose to live here. The rent's good. And our actual block is lovely.} We managed to find some grassy areas to walk around in, and I had some "mama thinking time" while he stared at dand...