I often ask my kids to pray for me partly because I want them to know that this is what we do. This is what Dad and I do for them and what they should do for each other. Mostly though I ask them because I need it. I feel so overwhelmed at times thinking the world might implode if all of the pictures aren't hung on the walls after we've been living here for a week. Of course most of the madness is self induced but this is simply the hand I've been dealt. So, I explain to them that sometimes I feel like I can't do it all and I begin rattling off a repertoire of tasks, expecting somehow that my kids will be wowed, since I have yet to see the Mom award's show on TV, apparently it hasn't aired yet.
So, my sweet Cooper begins to pray...." Dear God, please help all the sick people. Please help mom as she has so much do to. Could you please give her at least 18 hands to do everything and please help her kids to help her. Amen" I thank him for that sweet prayer as Julian says, "It would be really cool if you had like 15 boobs too then you could just feed us all at one time."
I laugh long enough to forget all about the list and we go outside and play, checking off the most important thing.
