Just sit in the puddle

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It's been a night of midnight, one a.m., three a.m., and six a.m. feedings.  It's been a night of back rubs and the dispelling of nightmares and bottles. It's a morning of coffee and exhaustion, of lunch packing and last minute calendar checks before ferrying a child off to school. Then the cell phone was left behind, the debit card wasn't put back in the wallet, the second cup of coffee has spilled all over the vehicle and the ten year old wants to know why it's important for him to give the other kids a chance to play the games they want to play. Breakfast for twins turns into baby food smeared over faces and hair and on the floor and the baby is now crying. It's then it hits me. I just have to sit in the puddle. I've stumbled upon it, be it from sleep deprivation or overextending myself, or just flat out tripping. However it happened I stumbled into that big icky puddle and my feet got wet, and then my pants and it splashed up my clothes and I had a choice to make right then. I could either get all bent out of shape and stress myself out trying to get out of that dang puddle and those wet clothes or I could just sit right down in it...and play.

So, today I played in puddles.  Today I found delight in the chaos.

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