The phone call from the realtor made me cranky this afternoon. Not her fault, it just is what it is, and it isn't good.
Bubby has a terrible cough these days in the middle of the night, and though Bugaboo is sleeping a six-plus hour stretch, I was up three times in the wee hours with my toddler.
And trying to make sure my boys see everybody while we are in town stresses me out a little. I realize I put that stress/guilt on myself, but as the week is drawing to a close I find myself thinking about whom I didn't get to see or to see enough, especially since Bubby's virus zapped this mommy's energy levels.
So I had a brief pity-party for myself this afternoon, but perked up after a chat with my mom, and a trip for taco pizza with my dad and step-mom.
Just after returning from pizza, I learned via facebook that a childhood friend lost her baby and nearly her own life this week, just a few weeks from the due date. And I cried for this friend I haven't talked to in over a decade, my pity-party from earlier feeling impulsive and selfish now.
Life is precious. Life is short. Life is a gift. I need to live each day in that knowledge.
I snuggled my toddler a bit longer tonight, and found that I was extra-patient with my fussy baby, too. And I keep whispering prayers of thankfulness for all I have been given, for each breath is a gift, and I keep saying prayers for my long-ago-friend, that she will find comfort and peace as her world has been shaken.