My whole family has the flu.

First Sage, then Pete, now Lupine. All three are still in the thick of it.

And I'm worn thin today from caring for these sick ones the past few days, while juggling all the rest that's on my plate. I cancelled a meeting, two demos, and two work days this week already, despite still playing catch-up from our time away.

And while I am grateful to have a self-constructed life where I can cancel meetings and skip work, it's still tiring. And I wonder how I could manage if we had three, four, or more kids. (Parents of big families, I salute you.)

If I'm honest I'd admit to being over it. I'm weary and a tad short-tempered and overwhelmed, despite myself. I've said things like, "Did you really just spill a second bowl of soup?!" instead of dancing across the kitchen like Mary Poppins, singing while I wipe up the mess.

Grace and patience are normally my strength, so it's hard when I can't seem to find them.

I went to bed early last night (to snuggle a feverish little one) and rose early this morning. (Even with flu in there air, there are only so many hours a person can spend in bed.) In the still darkness I made coffee and lit a fire in the wood stove, trying to carve out a moment alone to center myself before the day began.

To prepare for today and choose my focus.

Today. I will tend what most needs tending. I will not get sucked under into the suffering. I will find grace.

Because this is motherhood.

I wouldn't trade it for anything, but it's some serious hard work.

All of you struggling mamas out there, I see you.

With your harried work-school-daycare schedule and past-due bills; with your middle of the night vomit clean up and your overwhelm; with your heavy heart and busy schedule; with your worry and hope that you'll get this right.

You are not alone.

We stand together. Tired and undone, but together.