last night. written with pen on paper.

It’s so many minutes after midnight.

We are in Virginia but we were trying to be in Texas.

Three children are finally asleep after a myriad of on-the-stairs comments.

“I’m still hungry.”

“My throat hurts.”

“Can you put deodorant on my feet?”

(This question did get a response and a laugh. Turns out “deodorant” meant some essential oils on his cute size 13 soles.)

Two children – blonde and long – are sharing the sofa with me.

One because she read a Weird Virginia travel guide earlier today that has her brain spinning with tales of “sightings” and she can’t sleep or bear to be alone.

One because we are back to battling trips to the bathroom to purge stomach contents.  There seems to be an absence of socially acceptable phrases to describe vomit.  (It doesn’t matter.  It is always an event as unacceptable as the word implies.)

And so I am awake.

This is not the first night in my week to find me sleepless and on Puke Patrol.

In fact, it isn’t even the second.

In the past six days I think I have logged in three such restless nights.

The battle against the stomach bug is rough.  It’s gross and it’s exhausting and it’s lonely and it smells disgusting and it turns my own insides upside down.

But the struggle against the bitter is even worse.

The struggle against the self-pity and the anger and the injustice.

Oh, that’s a brutal battle in the wee hours of the night.

Pa Ingalls said, “There’s no great loss without some small gain.”

Paul said, “In all circumstances, give thanks.”

Our children have always been taught, “You cannot control other people. You can only control your own response.”

So.

Tonight

at 1:30 in the morning

I will exercise my ability to choose wisely in spite of my desire to choose poorly.

And for these things I will give thanks:

our children and their sweet spirits (whatever state of sickness they find themselves in)

Oma

this old red quilt and the view from this sofa

Virginia

pen and paper

cheddar rockets from Trader Joe’s

timely late night texts with just the right words

blue sky all day today

wispy thin threads of hope

brilliant stars in the clear night sky