Sometimes I think "Enduring to the End" should just mean making it through bedtime with everyone alive.
Sometimes I firmly believe that four kids versus one parent at bedtime is a completely unfair ratio.
Sometimes it's really hard to bite your lip and be an adult when the three year old yells "I don't like you right now, Mommy!"
Sometimes I skip brushing said three year old's teeth for all the above reasons.
Sometimes you read four verses of scriptures and say a hurried prayer while the baby screams his guts out, then feel guilty for hours later for not staying patient and kind during the bedtime routine.
Sometimes I think Diet Coke and chocolate chip cookies should be considered medicine.
Sometimes I wonder if I ever won't be tired and cranky.
And then sometimes, we take a walk on a perfect spring evening.
And throw rocks in the irrigation ditch, listening to the little boys laugh hysterically.
And sometimes I catch little moments like this, and realize that I must be doing something right in the midst of all the chaos. And I'm grateful.