The world feels heavy and scary these days. I struggle to know how much of reality to share with my children, how often to watch the news, or whether or not to keep track of the rising death tolls as I go about the mundane tasks of my day.

While I often have a lengthy thoughts, they are seldom quick. In general, it takes me a while to process: Things. Feelings. Events. Conversations. Truth... Though I sometimes wish I possessed more prompt and "tweetable" wit, I do treasure the wisdom exuded when thoughts are allowed time to steep. At the end of the day, however, we must work with what we've got.

One morning after the tragic shooting in Las Vegas, the littles and I embarked on our normal walk to preschool. It was pleasantly sunny, and the golden rays shimmered through the trees dancing in the breeze, creating a shadow mosaic on the sidewalk at our feet....

The day didn't work out at all how I thought it would. But if it had, I wouldn't have seen you.

I woke up with grand plans of showering, once I got the big kids off to school, and taking my little ones to the first moms group of the season. You know, the glorious place where I would get to eat a lovely breakfast and sip my hot coffee in peace and enjoy a couple kid-free hours with other adults. I'd get home in time to feed the kids a quick lunch and lay them down for a nap. Pretty much a perfect day, if you ask me.

Alas, long Wednesdays at school followed by an evening at church, as fun as it is, tends to strangle the life out of Thursday mornings. Everyone wakes up tired and crabby.

I tried everything--I promised treats from the moms group, mac and cheese for lunch when we got home, even a trip to Wendy's for Frostys if they willingly went to their class at church so I could go to mine.

Please, for the love of God, take the Frosty deal. Take advantage of my desperateness. I'm begging you.

But no....