Life isn’t about finishing fast, but about running with endurance. Sprinters can run short distances very quickly, but marathoners can consistently run long distances without faltering. My life lately has been a marathon.
It’s been busy, with homeschooling merging with business and daily life. How’s all this going? Very well. My daughter’s thrilled that we started multiplication just before Thanksgiving and she likes how the work is getting more challenging now. Business is growing by leaps and bounds lately. And daily life…? In the words of a good friend of mine, “It is what it is.” There are more good times than bad, but it all comes together into one very interesting life.
Today life got even more interesting. Our baby got sick yesterday (Thanksgiving day), but despite the high fever and stuffy nose, she rarely stopped. She was like the Energizer Bunny with boogers – she kept going and going and going. Yet, I could look at her eyes and know she wasn’t feeling good. She’s still sick, up in bed with a healthy dose of Motrin and some juice. Our older daughter claimed she was tired this afternoon when we returned home from my parents’ house; long story short, she’s sick now, too. So, for the weekend, the Academy for Exceptional Children is the Pediatric Clinic of Exceptional Children.
In the midst of this busyness, I started feeling the urge to create something with my hands that would last longer than a bar of soap. I made two pairs of braided barrettes for my older daughter – pink and purple, and red and green (accented with a gold star button). I made pirate-themed bags to hold the soaps I created for my private label account, a project that required me dusting off my “how to use a sewing machine” skills. And finally, I picked my knitting back up again. My mother-in-law taught me how to knit last Christmas – my husband’s aunt Maria and she are master knitters – but I hadn’t touched my needles since last January, knitting a few rows then ripping them out because they weren’t perfect. I’d like for what I’m working on to be a washcloth, but it’s not perfect. I wonder if I can just call it shabby chic?
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