“…when our bones cry their telegrams…”

I sit here at the desk in the office, my gaze falling absently out the open window…  I watch the snow accumulate along the barren treetops and parked cars. Whizzing and whirring through the air in mad circles.

Today, thus far, has been one hastening from one task and endeavor into another…  with very little time for rest or reflection. Granted, this is not atypical in and of itself for a typical workday. However, I am weary from very little sleep.

A nagging Cold has lingered with our younger children due in no small part to the bitter Winter weather of recent weeks. Our children have no problems sharing, especially when it comes to runny noses and chest congestion.

Candace and I swapped-off holding and soothing the wee babes but, when Israel’s stomach turned on him and Gaelynn’s nose sprung a leak in the early-early hours of this morning, it took a lot to bring the household into order. ‘Twas indeed a sleepless night.

Admittedly, my beloved bore the brunt of the pre-Dawn puking/coughing/sneezing chaos to ensure that I would have at least my minimum four hours of sleep…  but it is impossible for me to have true rest when my pretty ones are ill.

Upon the desk, my mobile phone shakes and warbles in petulant insistence.

This brief stanza of contemplation must end; there is work to be done.


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