One Foot in Front of the Other

Right about now I'm wishing I had some Easter inspiration to share with you. Wise words or bright ideas, either one would do.
One of those posts from days-gone-by popped up in my Facebook "memories" the other day. I read it and sighed... a deep soul-weary sigh.

Breath in, breath out, I tell myself. Keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Just one more trip to football training in rush hour traffic, one more early morning drop-off to the train, one more night of worrying about bedtimes and lunchboxes and clean uniforms.
Just one more day and it's school holidays. A chance to catch our breath and pause for a few days.
Man, this tiredness is bone-deep.

By body rebelled on the weekend and I kind of crashed. Had to pull the plug on all the plans, hunker down and conserve energy, go nowhere (a fair amount of takeaways may have been consumed).

I think it was the endless going-and-going without a break for so long; holding it together for everyone, keeping all the balls and plates in the air and spinning. Sole parenting is not for the faint-hearted.
Me myself, I'll admit it - I'm knackered.

I haven't actually got anything earth-shattering to say, nothing particularly deep to share, just this:

I was given this print-out last week and I aspire to it - to transform, to have "wings".

These days I catch glimpses of the person I used to be - strong, confident, capable. I lost that person along the way, I really did. My kids don't know that strong person; I hardly know her myself. But I'm seeing glimpses of her returning along with something that looks remarkably like a backbone (I'm having to grow one, quick-smart).

Tired as I am, bone-weary, exhausted, as I type this and upload my photos and reflect on that poem, I'm reminded that I've come so very far. No wonder I'm so tired.

So now it's almost Easter. There are hot cross buns stockpiled in the freezer; a few chocolate eggs hidden in my bedroom, and a bottle of sparkling grape juice stashed in the pantry. It's all I can muster.
In the middle of the cyclone that's about to hit (as well as the excitement of visiting cousins and a special boy turning nine), I'm hoping that somehow this Easter weekend, I can take a moment with my kids to mark the occasion and remember why we're getting this holiday.

Easter might not be quite as flash and fun as it used to be back in the day when I used to make us all dress up in theme and eat roast lamb. Oh man, I sigh with nostalgia over those days (no-one will dress up anymore these days, we are all too cool and grownup *sniff*)

But something tells me that all we need is one quiet moment with faux-vino and some bread to break in remembrance of Him.

It'll have to do.

xxx