I will not talk about the rough stuff today.

I won’t talk about Max flipping off of the swing and onto the cement on his head. I will not talk about how my stomach flipped when I felt the squishiness that was the back of his head. I will not talk about the large bruise/ scratch on his back that we didn’t find until hours later.

I will not talk about the scary first-communion dress sewing process.  I will not, I will not, I will NOT.

I will not talk about Lucy and her seemingly endless teething.  I grit my own teeth when I think about it.

I will not talk about how the vicious bug that bit Tess behind her ear, producing blood and angry, red swelling.  I won’t talk about the tears she didn’t want to cry, the pain, the embarrassment on her part. I won’t mention the benadryl pill she choked down, the baking soda compress, the ice . . . it was all so very painful.

I won’t talk about how frazzled I felt at the end of the day.  I will not talk about how even now, in the dark and quiet, I am unsure if I can handle another day like THIS one tomorrow.

Nope.  I just won’t do it.  Not today.