Little Itty-Bitty Baby Miracles

I’m often bombarded with stuff. Money. Economy. AIDS. Abortion. Orphans. Smoking. Anxiety. Death. Insomnia. Headaches. Bugs. Working stress.

I don’t care today. I am not going to read the news or listen to the radio, save for Focus on the Family as I drive to work tonight. While smoking my cigarette. Ha! Real perfection in that, right.

There was the biggest rainbow in the sky the other day. Miracles still happen. The Molecule Slammer-Into-er didn’t suck us into a black hole. My heart hasn’t yet exploded. Plants are still green. And Sam still takes naps.

Some days are sad and frustrating and make me rant on and on and on and on and on and on and on like this. But most days are good. And I’m caressed with little hands that touch my face. And an easy time at work so that I can occasionally read about how to be a better mom while waiting for my next phone call. And my husband is big and strong and kisses me. Even if it’s not all that often. Even if I don’t see him more than an hour a day. Even if I never tuck Sammy into bed, save for Saturday night. Even if we don’t have a yard or a porch swing or a garden. Even if my only jeans have a hole in them.

The sun still shines. Hell, we may even have heat this winter.


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