Skip to main content

P is for Peace

Peace is something that is increasingly harder to achieve as the world throws the unexpected at you on a seemingly never ending basis. It is easy to get caught up in the things that can bring you down while forgetting that even though they may be small you have blessings in your life. I am learning what it is to achieve peace in my life for the first time in years.

My youngest daughter and I moved in September, March and April. The moves were drastic, and unsettling because of our being completely unprepared and then not so drastic and unsettling. We were a little more prepared for the final move. What I mean by prepared is that I actually got to tell the baby in advance that we were moving, and she was not yanked up in the middle of the night to move because of something someone else did.

There was no regression during the last move, in fact we have seen progress instead. The baby is doing well in her new school, and the communication with the teacher is open. It is nice to have that once again. We have even had a few outings of our own by ourselves that made the days here better.

The adjustments are being made slowly and we are once again preparing in advance for changes. Peace is a nice feeling. I have only been sick once since we have gotten to our new home, and the baby's independence is showing. She is getting better at making sure she follows directions, at home anyway.


I am driving farther distances little by little which means that once again my nerves are coming under my control. It is a strange feeling to have peace, and even stranger is the feeling that it is just me and my little girl for the long haul.  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Flash Fiction: Irrational

The old house had to be up to code in less than a week. The wiring was fried, and the walls were crumbling. Demolition seemed to be the only answer but the irrational woman that had hired him insisted that it had to be fixed. It seemed she had a strange attachment to this pile of rotting lumber. The week passed and the house was no where near ready. She came in slamming doors leaving piles of rubble in her wake as the fragile walls gave way. Cracks in the foundation widened as she continued the tirade until the ceiling came down on her. In the mist of dust and debris someone heard a fading whimper as she expired with the house she loved so. Why is she so insistent that the house be fixed instead of simply demolishing it and starting over? Is it fitting that her end came with the end of the house? The word is irrational and this post comes in at 125 of the 150 word limit. Vist M3 for official rules and word list. Visit Redmund Productions to pick up the serious and rememb...