I am a complainer. I hate to admit that dirty little fact, but it's true. I am better at not complaining than I used to be, simply because I have a wonderful husband who's been faithfully praying for God to change this part of my life (I asked him to do this). Yet I still tend to highlight all of the bad stuff at the end of each day, and it makes for one heavy evening sometimes. I really, really don't want to do that this evening. I am having a rough day, to say the least. My son woke up with yet another horrible head cold, the fourth or fifth since this year began. Since his colds last up to 2-1/2 weeks from runny nose to lingering cough, that means he has only had about a week of "well time" in between each one. Gardner has entered a whining stage, if you happened to see my earlier post. This is exaggerated when he isn't feeling well. He weaves in and out of my legs as I try to cook breakfast, lunch, dinner, crying to be picked up. When I do hold h...
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