It was the middle of the night. My son was crying. He has done this nightly for almost all of his two little years. I sat down with him in the rocking chair in his room around midnight. As I got up to place him back in his crib, I forgot where the crib was .We had moved it to a different part of his room a few months ago. This night, I was so exhausted that I became disoriented. Instead of placing him in his crib, I walked into his train table, and I fell, with him in my arms. My husband heard the thud when I fell and came running. Thankfully, my son was okay and so was I. But I felt like my mind and body had betrayed me. I knew that I needed to rest both physically and mentally.
I didn’t listen and I kept plugging along my frenetic pace.
I could tell my body was not happy with me. Also, our family life was starting to feel the effects of my demands. After agreeing to too many things, I started to crumble with my words. It was a morning before church. I yelled at the kids and my husband incessantly on the morning before church. I felt like a huge hypocrite arriving at church that morning. One may say that was just a one time deal. But it kept happening. The next few days I yelled again at my children before school. I also forgot to consider my husband in an important decision I made. Our house was not peaceful and it was not a restful place to live.