Rain

One night last week I paused to reflect on what a good week it had been. I can't even recall why now. Whatever it was, it was a smooth week, everyone was happy and healthy, our planets were aligned, our dance steps were in sync.

Then there's this week. Sam's vomiting stopped just in time for Abby's fever, which subsided about the same time Jake's asthma worsened. Then there's trick or treating and missing costumes and forgotten parties and missed photo opportunities and night terrors and gas leaks and bad plumbing and mice and grudges and don't forget work.

I don't think our family handles stress very well. Of course most people don't. But ours handles it particularly badly. I get silent. Bryon gets loud. Sam gets cheeky. Jake gets needy. And Abby, well, Abby is probably thinking "All the families in the world, and I end up in this one."

One of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott, says there are two types of prayers: Help Me and Thank You.

So, Dear God, Help me.

Thank you.