I'm sitting in my bed, holding a bunch just like this, given to me by my sweet little six-year-old. He's watched me stop on our way to school to bury my nose in these beautiful lilacs and inhale deeply. He knows how much I love them, so he wanted to bring some to me as he headed home from the park with his dad. John took the kids to play for a while, both to spend some time with them, and to give me a much needed break.

It's been a horendous week. It's only Wednesday, and I can really say that it's been awful. I spent the time while the kids were gone in the tub. It was peaceful and wonderful, and I knew it was coming to an end. So I got out and opened the bathroom door, and was smacked in the face with reality. It's still light outside. Meaning the kids aren't in bed yet, so that battle is still to be fought. The house is such a mess that I want to close my eyes and pretend it's not real. I get dressed and sit in bed. And I contemplate, seriously, running away. I could run away from it all. Clearly I'm not cut out for this, and they would all be better off with someone who can handle it all.

My thoughts are interrupted by the front door opening and my bedroom door handle being jostled from the outside. In runs Carter, yelling, "I have a surprise for you." The look on his face as he pulls the lilac blossoms from behind his back is priceless. I smile and thank him, and kiss him on the cheek. Then I listen as he runs to tell the rest of them that I loved them and gave him a kiss.

And then I sit, smelling the lilacs and sobbing.