We have these black, hanging wall folder-things from Pottery Barn in our mudroom.
Every day after school the kids empty their backpacks and put all their papers in them for me to look at.
I finally looked at the papers they brought home and put in those folders in the last few days of school this morning.
Our situation has me stressed, I didn’t sleep much last night, and I woke up with a raging headache and I was just spontaneously bursting into crying fits.
I wanted the day to be over before it even started.
But then I found this:
It was Number 4’s writing journal from school.
I randomly opened it up.
And this is the page I opened to:
Again, I was crying.
But now it was for a different reason.
I kept reading.
That Number 4.
Maybe she is a little bit of a chip off the old block…
Making me laugh and cry all at the same time.
I don’t know.
Between her and that cardinal, I think I might just make it through this.
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