Boot Camp

Maybe you would look at me and think I am just a normal gal. But over the last few years I have grown so much-- I'm not taking about when pregnant with triplets,  five feet around and tipping the scales at 250lbs. I mean my heart, on the inside, what I can endure, what I am capable of carrying.

I guess I wonder how tough I am now, compared to how tough I was before. I wonder if I could hack it at boot camp.

Could I handle a drill sergent yelling in my face. Well, the kids do it to me all the time and I love them like crazy. Constant yelling and babbling, crying and screaming. Hands outstretched to be carried, demands real or imagined that need to be met, the pressure that comes with saying yes (now I have to facilitate something, pull out paint, crayons, mix cakes and clean -up afterwards, all the while fighting off babies so the girls can have an activity) and weight on my heart that comes for saying no. Babies dropping things, ruining things, climbing on counters, water spills, food fights, food wasting, constantly tripping over little people, little people scrums where they all fall over and cry. My heart could be torn in a thousand pieces if I let it.

Exhaustion. I have been wearied to the very core of my soul. So I wonder, if boot camp might not be a little bit of a break.